When 2/3 of the cats are away

 Miriam and Alissa both happened to be gone yesterday.  Alissa and I have specialty class at the same time.  I was returning from dropping my students off at art and passed Alissa's class on the way to computers.  

Alissa is a stickler and her class walks sedately behind her in the hall, feet on the blue line, all business.

Yesterday her class was fanned out across the hall.  They were chatting and pushing and shoving and  messing with things on the wall and generally acting how students unaccompanied by an adult would act.  Matt was at the end of the hall and he intercepted them so I didn't have to.  The sub was doggedly following behind them.

You gotta walk in front of your class.  That is the first rule of survival.

Miriam's class was still in her room and since my room was empty, I could hear them.  It was something of an uproar.  I didn't intervene for a while, because I didn't want to overstep, but I finally decided she needed me.

I told one boy to put the soccer ball away and another boy to get his feet off the desk.  Two kids didn't have phonics packets.  They told me their teacher had never given them one. I pulled out the contents of their desks and found their phonics packets.  I told everyone to sit down and be quiet.  The sub was disoriented, but she finally found what she needed so I left her to it.

Later, they were lining up to go to specialty class and I heard her say, "Can everyone be quiet please?"  She said it so often to such little effect, I think the answer was no.

It is not easy to be a sub!

I had afternoon recess.  This year I sit on the "buddy bench" during recess duty.  I don't really need a buddy, but I need a bench.

A gaggle of girls came over to me out of breath because there was a fight!  Nothing is so scintillating it seems as being the one to tell the teacher there is a fight.  

I walked across the playground, wishing if they were going to fight that they would do it closer to me.  I was tired.

Then I considered that I really didn't have it in me to break up a fight.  I'm glad they don't know how vulnerable and fragile I feel.  Driving over bumps in my car hurts my port.  I am still moving pretty gingerly.  They can't know how easily they could take me down.

The fight scattered when I arrived.  Then some of the parties came back to talk to me for vindication.  I think the crux of the problem was that a group of girls had laid claim to a tree and another group decided to join up.  A third group of opportunistic boys sensed conflicts and came to throw a few punches.  The girls had been smacking each other with hoodies and during lunch recess. (it was apparently an ongoing conflict), one of the girls had enlisted her 5th grade brother to come and defend her honor.

The girls all said, "We just want to share the tree."

Because you usually fight if your sincere desire is to share....

I said, "OK, so share it.  I'll stand here and make sure everyone shares it."

One group all started speaking angry Spanish at one another and the other group started yelling indignantly to me about the unfairness of everything.  I said, "There's nothing wrong with my hearing.  I can hear you fine.  You don't need to yell."

They kept repeating all their grievances and I checked my watch to see how many more minutes of recess we had.

The Spanish speakers went to play on the monkey bars and the other girls flounced away in a huff and the boys just milled around, disappointed the fight seemed over.

So I survived another day.  I guess that's the point of the story.

Staying hydrated

 One of my students from last year barreled into me for a hug, hitting her head against my port.  It hurt.  So much.  For about an hour.

I didn't cry. (Even though I wanted to.)

I went to my "chemo class" appointment.  They handed me a whole sheaf of papers and it was over an hour hearing all about everything.

At one point I said, "This sounds like a lot of fun..."

The nurse said, "We want to tell you about everything, but hopefully you won't need all this information.  It is just in case."

Here's hoping.  She showed me the treatment room with the chairs and IV and all.  It was super overwhelming.

I didn't cry. (Even though I wanted to.)

I talked to Marianne and then went on a walk with Kim.  She is very kind about my pace and my shortening of our route.  She is also just very kind in general.  She is the primary president and I told her how I was feeling about being primary chorister.  I said, "I want to do my best.  I want to be a person who you can count on."  I learned at chemo class that the worst of the nausea will be on Sunday since I'm having chemo on Thursday and Friday.

She said, "Heavenly Father knows you have cancer.  This is His plan.    He is in charge and we will make it work."

That time I did cry a little as the truth of her words sunk in.

I am blessed to have such good people in my life.

Cheer up, or else

I was scanning the headlines while I dried my hair this morning.  I don't really have it in me to read the news.  It is too depressing. 

This headline stopped me though.

First, I'm grateful that I can be cranky online or anywhere and there are no internet censors to silence me.

But also, I don't want to be a hater or a cynic.

Even if it's just being a hater or cynic about my life.

Sometimes I feel like Bill Murray's character in Groundhog Day, during the part when he's miserable. The part when he says this for his weather forecast:

You want a prediction about the weather, you're asking the wrong Phil. I'll give you a winter prediction: It's gonna be cold, it's gonna be grey, and it's gonna last you for the rest of your life.

My days are hard.  I feel sick all the time.  I come home exhausted and I don't really do anything in the evenings enjoyable or otherwise, except gear up for the next day by resting.

Then I do it again.

Ever since I had my surgery and port placement, I've added pain to the mix.  Oh, and Adam's been gone.  A lot.

He left again last night.

So where am I going with all of this?  Am I going to cheer up, or else?

I am going to try.

Because the or else isn't that Chinese internet censors are going to come after me.  The or else is I'll be even more miserable.

I have cancer and I don't feel well, but that doesn't mean I have to be miserable or make everyone else miserable.

I bought some books from Amazon yesterday.  I have a TBR stack, but they were not inspiring me.  It was Prime Big Deal Days, so I bought myself some books that I am excited to read.  I'm not helpless.  I can cheer myself up.  Even for one day at a time.

Today I'm looking forward to coming home from work and reading.  That is enough for today.
 

Consistency is exhausting

 On the first day of school, my class voted on the reward they wanted to receive when they spelled the word responsible.  We are going to spell all the RIDER values (responsible, inclusive, determined, engaged and respectful).  Rider is the name of our mascot.

They voted on popsicles.  It seemed like a great reward mid-August.

It has been so hard fought!  They earn letters for making speedy and civilized transitions and I have given subs leeway to either add or subtract letters.  I have erased a few letters at times when they are being crazy.

On Friday, they finally earned their reward.  Some of them had been worried, "It will be too cold by the time we earn these popsicles!"

But they finally did it!

At the store on Saturday, I nearly forgot to buy popsicles.  It would have been tragic if I'd forgotten!

Then all weekend, every time I'd get ice out of the freezer (so, often), I would tell whoever was nearby, "I can't forget to take these popsicles to school!"

Sunday evening, Adam put the red and blue Marks and Spencer bag he brought home treats from London in on the seat of Joan.  He said, "This will remind you not to forget the popsicles."

I went out to my car yesterday morning and sure enough, I had forgotten the popsicles, but Adam's brilliant way to remind me had worked.

I got the popsicles and put them in the freezer in the teachers' lounge.

They were SO excited.  After lunch, I had the popsicles ready.  We distributed them and my thinking was that I would return the extras to the freezer and be back really fast and then read aloud to them.  Everyone would be busy with their popsicles and it would be a quiet and calm read aloud.

My thinking was wrong.

When I rounded the corner to my classroom (I had purposefully left the door open so I could hear the hooligans), I could hear an uproar.

I walked inside and they told me that one of the boys (of course he did) said something inappropriate to another student.  

I unceremoniously took his popsicle and threw it in the trash.

He cried and sulked and ripped papers and slid his desk across the room and went to the reading corner and sat not the floor and got a book and pretended to read it.  (He can't read is how I know he was pretending--also reading, even pretending to, doesn't really make me as mad as he thought it would.)

I read aloud anyway.

Throwing a fit must work at home.

Later, I told him that he didn't get his popsicle because of what he said.  I asked, "Do you understand?"

He whimpered.

Later we had Read with a Cop.  You would think if there was any time third graders would be at full attention it would be when we read with a cop.  I mean, they're armed.  But the third graders are pretty naughty.

I had this same student come over and sit by me because he was being disruptive.  He complained, "I can't see the pictures."

Alissa and I shrugged at him.  Did we care?  We did not.

We were in the cafeteria and he started banging his head against the table.  

Alissa said, "It must work for him at home."

Yep.

Eventually he got tired of, you know, hitting his head against the table.

The cop finished one story and was about to start a second.  I asked my student if he wanted to go try again and he humbly said yes.  He was good throughout the second story.

A girl, who was being a chatty Cathy, was seated on the other side of me.  She was completely happy about it.  She complimented me on my fingernails and wanted to chat about what she was doing after school.

I kept shushing her.  (Note to self:  sitting by me isn't always the consequence I was hoping for.)

I gave myself an O in our ongoing tic tac toe game when we got back to class.  Because they weren't their best selves....

I gave them an i, the first letter in inclusive at the end of the day because they had cleaned up the classroom pretty well.

It is exhausting.  April and May Thelma will thank me, but it is exhausting.

Weekend

 Adam came home Friday night.  It was a brilliant start to a good weekend.  He's leaving again this week and I am sad about it, but at least I don't have any procedures scheduled/parent teacher conferences.

Last week was rough.

Emma came over Saturday morning and we spent the day mostly in the basement.  I made Christmas ornaments for my students and Emma worked on a puzzle and the four of us enjoyed watching conference.

Between the first two sessions, we went to Trader Joe's.  Emma didn't go with us, but I think every other person in Utah County was there.  It was crazy.  It was hard to shop because every check stand lane extended practically to the back of the store. 

I guess that is what happens when everyone is doing their errands between conference sessions.

Between the second and third session, Mark stayed home and Emma went with us to Winco.  It was much less chaotic.  I was walking along and realized, I just feel happy. That is the power of being nourished by the good word of God.

I was reminded that I am loved, that Jesus Christ brings peace and healing, and that serving and kindness and love bring blessings.

Between the two shopping excursions, we created a feast out of cheeses and crackers and jalapeño artichoke dip.  Adam cooked some appetizers in the air fryer and I prepped raspberries and apple slices and oranges.  Emma picked out a Wensleydale lemon honey cheese and it maybe changed my life.

A slice of that cheese atop a perfect Honeycrisp apple slice would probably create world peace if everyone could have one.

Sunday was more wonderful hours spent being lifted and encouraged.  I think we hear the messages we need to hear and I felt like over and over the message for me was to find joy in Jesus Christ despite anything else happening in my life.  I was inspired by stories of other people who had done that very thing.

On Sunday afternoon, when Elder Stevenson said, "At the conclusion of this conference...."

I said, "Oh, that always makes me so sad!"

But I know that I don't need conference weekend to keep internalizing the messages I heard.  I love the cozy autumnal time spent together with my family, but I can keep learning and growing from here.

And I could always buy more of that cheese to accompany my study....

Grateful Friday

 Yesterday was for sure one of the hardest days I've had this school year.  (My friends, that is saying something.)

I was in pain.  I am bruised and sore and walk approximately like C-3PO on Star Wars.

My iPad has been updated and I couldn't figure out how to log into it.  I got locked out of trying.  That was frustrating.  

My students' behavior was pretty abysmal.

I had more parent teacher conferences and the AC wasn't working and my room was 81 degrees. (It wasn't even that hot outside.)

Most of the parents have been super kind about my cancer.  Last night one of the mothers told me, "My brother-in-law is a chemo scientist and it is really painful and awful and I'm sorry."

Well...thanks.

I had a one hour and fifteen minute parent teacher conference with one student's parents.  It was scheduled for 15 minutes.  Matt was there because this particular student is on the behavior struggle bus.  I had parents in the hall whose conferences were late.  They were mad.

It was intense.

So maybe you're wondering why I'm calling this post Grateful Friday. (Besides the reason that I usually do a Grateful Friday post.)

It is because I do after all have things to be grateful for.

For one thing:  it is General Conference weekend.  I am looking forward to having my soul lifted by hearing words about Jesus Christ and His gospel.  It is the balm I need.

Adam is coming home!  Tonight.  I could not be more grateful.

I'm also so grateful for Mark.  It is a gift and a blessing to have him living here.  He is the very picture of kindness and solicitousness.  He checks on me and does mundane tasks like take the garbage and recycling to the street and kisses my forehead.  He always says, "Just text me if you need me and I'll come running."

I'm grateful for my school friends.  I'm grateful Matt was there for that terrible conference.  He sent me to the hall to placate parents while he kept talking to the other parents.  

I finally told the parents that it was enough.  I didn't need to hear about what happened in first grade and second grade.  I said, "If your student is mistreated now, I will take care of it."

The mom rolled her eyes and said that it had happened this week and I had done nothing.

I looked at the student in the eyes and said, "You told me this week that something happened?"

They squirmed and said, "No..."

OK then.

I said, "I will take care of it.  You just have to tell me."

(The bemoaning of mistreatment was a huge deflection of misbehavior.  Apples don't fall far from trees.)

But I'm old enough to not be intimidated by parents, even the rolling of eyes variety.  Also, I had a newly placed port throbbing in my chest.  It's going to take more than an eye roll to get me to back down.

We had a break for dinner after that conference.  I brought Matt his water bottle he had left in my room.  He said, "The look on your face says it all."

I've never had much of a poker face.  And I'm grateful that my mouth doesn't need to say it when my face will.  I love the backing and support of a strong administrator.  We are on the same team and we are happy to be on the same team with parents and students too.

We just may call your bluff.

One cranky night (made more cranky by pain and all) does not sway my love for my job and my students.  Even that recalcitrant misbehaver.  I will keep working with them and for them.

I'm grateful we all get to keep trying.

 

Port placement

 I was stressed about the procedure, I think especially since Adam is halfway around the world.  I dreamt all night that nurses were telling me that my lymphoma was "really bad" and asking me if I knew how many lymph nodes I have that are enlarged.  They told me, "it is a lot."

I woke up and felt relieved that it was a dream, but also unsettled.

Emma and I went to the hospital and of course they'd given me the wrong time.  They have been "getting a new system" at the hospitals and they have been using it as an excuse for the past three weeks.  Eventually they need to figure it out....

I showed up at 8:00 because that's when My Chart said to come.  The person who I talked to didn't tell me a time, so I just went with My Chart.

I was actually scheduled for 10:00.  

The people at the hospital are very nice though.  They got me in early.  They did the IV and gave me the "gown" to wear and  the grippy socks.  The nurse was taking my blood pressure on my left arm and it is still really sore--nerve damage--from the surgery and I started crying.

I wasn't just crying because it hurt--although it did--I was just crying because of everything.  I am tired of all these procedures.  I don't even recover from one when I get started on the next.  It is a lot.  Especially with Adam gone.

The nurse was very kind and handed me a Kleenex and then she handed Emma one too because when I cry, Emma cries.  

In the time we were waiting for the procedure, me in the world's least comfortable bed and Emma in a chair by my side, she did Buzzfeed quizzes with me to find out which Brooklyn 99, Jane Austin, and Parks and Rec character I was and which Disney princess.

I finally had the procedure and it was fine.  It's nothing I would do for a good time, but I survived it.  I had conscious sedation--second time for that--and I am pretty out of it during that.

Once I was back with Emma and a little more lucid, we talked about Christmas gifts for my students and she showed me apartments she is considering.  After a few hours of recovery time, Emma drove me home.  I told her she didn't need to hang out any more and she said, "I just want to get you settled."  That meant me in my recliner.  It's comfortable.  I am grateful for Emma.  She kept me entertained and cried with me and walked behind me in the hall when I went to the bathroom and kept reassuring me that my hospital gown was staying closed.

She's pretty great as daughters go.

Sleeping last night was rough.  I couldn't sleep on either side, just flat on my back.  I spent some of the time in my chair and some in my bed.  I think staying home today would have been a good idea, but I have parent teacher conferences.

So here I go.  It feels daunting, but I've been daunted before.

Service

I married into a family of storytellers.  From the very first visit I made to Washington, I loved sitting around the dining room table, long after dinner was over and listening to the stories.  I like sitting on the deck, under the tall evergreens or sitting around in a circle of chairs on the lawn, listening to stories.

At first, when everyone was younger, there were a lot of growing up stories.  There were a lot of scout camp stories, because crazy things happen at scout camp and Linn was the leader so the stories involved him as well.

Part of the family lore was about a hapless scout who broke through the ice on a winter campout and his feet were freezing cold.  (You may wonder why would you camp in the winter?  Or ever?  I'm indoorsy, but I digress.)

Linn was the scout leader and I don't know how old Adam was at the time, but Adam is the oldest son and it speaks volumes about Adam's personality and his relationship with his dad that Linn had Adam put the scout's freezing cold feet in his armpits to warm them up.  This story has always just cracked me up.  (Also it worked.)

Our kids also know the story, because like I said, the Davises are storytellers.  When I returned home from my surgery, I put an ice pack in my armpit, at the doctor's suggestion.  Mark brought up the story.  He said I was having reverse hypothermia.

The next day I was remembering the story again.  I was thinking about Linn, as I often do.  I was thinking that for him at scout camp, his role was to keep the scouts safe.  He was the leader.  I think he considered Adam, his oldest son with all of the winning characteristics of a firstborn, an extension of himself.  It was probably very natural for him to enlist Adam's help.  Linn knew he could count on Adam.

I like to think that Linn is continuing to count on Adam.  I think he is looking down on Adam and feeling good about the ways that he is serving the Lord and also wearing himself out taking care of his family.  Linn loved Braeden and Emma and Mark.  He would have loved Anna (I mean, the red hair!) and I can only imagine the happy relationship he would have with QE.  (Maybe they were buddies in heaven before QE came to earth.)

A few weeks ago, at the hospital, Adam brought a book to read aloud to me while I was waiting for surgery (because that is the person I married).  He opened the book and tucked the bookmark into the back cover and smoothed the book open and his mannerism in handling a book in that moment reminded me so much of Linn.  Of course I know Adam more than I ever knew Linn, but I love seeing glimpses of him in Adam.  I love that because of temple covenants, I am part of their family.  We will all be together again, hopefully sharing stories. (Because they are all good storytellers.)

***

I have been the recipient of more service in the past few months than the past few years combined.  I appreciate it!  Sometimes it is the difference between me feeling like things are going to be OK and...not.  

Other times, I kind of hate it.

It is humbling to accept.  I want to be independent and self sufficient.  I want to feel like my normal self.

It occurs to me that in order for people, anyone, everyone to serve, someone has to be the recipient.  Maybe being as gracious as you can and accepting service that is offered, that is its own kind of service.

There are a lot of ways that Heavenly Father asks us to serve.  Like Linn saw Adam, maybe Heavenly Father sees us as an extension of Him.  Maybe He is counting on us to serve each other and He knows who He can ask and who He can trust.  Sometimes service may feel as unpleasant as freezing cold feet in our armpits, but I want to hold that image in my head.

Adam put the freezing cold feet in his armpits anyway.  Because his dad asked him to.

I want to be a person who can be counted on like that.

Good enough

I had a rough night's sleep on Sunday night.  My mind couldn't let go of the day and I felt so sad about the attack on the church in Michigan. 

Mark had told me earlier to stop doom scrolling and he wasn't wrong.

Sometimes I can't bear witness to all the sadness and I need to put my phone down.

My feelings about the attack were coupled with Adam being gone (and he's still gone all this week) and I need to have yet another procedure (port placement) and miss more school and I have parent teacher conferences and it is all a lot.

And I need sleep.

And I couldn't sleep.

I went to school for the teacher work day and met with my team and I already had a list, but I kept adding to it as we met.  There are many things I'm behind on because I've missed so much school.  Also, my teacher work day was going to be cut short because I was doing 8 parent teacher conferences.

I got a phone call that my port appointment is Wednesday.  It meant more sub plans, more lost time.  Also, no Adam to hold my hand and read to me.

I felt this rising anxiety.  How could I do everything that needed doing?  How could I manage all of this?

Emma said she could go to my appointment because I will be sedated and need a driver.  Actually she texted, "I can absolutely do that!"

Mark came to my classroom on his way home from class.  He stayed 2 1/2 hours and put all the stickers on the Chromebooks and fixed my iPad and taped down my rug with this industrial double stick tape of Alissa's and hung up my Halloween decorations.  (Did I want to micromanage that?  Yes.  But I managed to keep my lips zipped.) He sorted reports for parent teacher conferences and went and got us lunch and brought it back.

It made a huge difference.  I was able to get things more or less sorted for conferences.  

A lot of days, like yesterday, feel hard.  But every day I get just enough help to make it.

It is the miracle that keeps happening.

I took a short walk with Kim when I got home and that is good for my soul.  I talked on the phone to Braeden and Adam.

Life doesn't have to be perfect to be good.

Weekend

 When you live with your parents you have everything except peace:

I had my computer at home Thursday night because I took it to my training.  On the very rare occasions that I have had my computer home, I plug it in to charge overnight in the hallway on the floor so I will not forget it the next morning.

I had plugged it in at my desk and guess what I forgot?

I didn't realize it until I was walking into school.  I saw Alissa and I said, "I forgot my computer!"  Her eyes got big.  We both knew that I couldn't function without my computer.  I would need it to take roll, access my lesson plans, teach math and phonics.  

I need my computer.

I said, "I have to go home and get it!  Tell someone to cover my class because I will be a few minutes late."

I couldn't believe it!  As I was driving away from school, I remembered Mark.  He has class on Friday morning but maybe if he hadn't left yet, he could meet me somewhere with my computer.  I called him and he said he would bring it to me.

I thanked him a million times and went back to school.  I saw Alissa in the hall and she said, "You're back already?"

Riley was there and he said in his never-reacting-to-a-crisis way, "You don't need a computer to teach.  Just show a movie."

"How?" Alissa asked.

"I would need a computer," I told him.

"Hm," he said, realizing we were not wrong.

A few minutes after the bell rang, one of the secretaries came in with my computer and said, "Your son brought this.  Did you know he was going to do that?  He is so nice!"

I concurred and then she said, "He looks just like you."

I told Mark later and apologized.  I know it isn't his dream to look like his mother....

Especially this place:

When I was walking into the temple on Saturday morning, I saw Tito.  He is in our ward and also has lymphoma.  Cancer buddies!  He said, "This is the perfect place to see you."

I agreed. 

In the dressing room, I saw Caroline who is one of my teacher friends.  We hugged because when you see a friend at school, you say "Hi, how are you?" and when you see a friend at the temple, you hug.  That's just science.

We remarked how great it was to see each other somewhere besides school.  Especially this place.

The temple is just a bit of heaven and I think that's why I want to hug my friends there.

Deep Dark Shannon:

After the temple, I met Shannon for lunch.  With Adam gone it was really nice to have some diversions planned for the day.  We went to Seven Brothers which I had never been to because of the intimidating size of their burgers.  But Shannon knew they had shrimp and salad and that's what we got and it was delicious.

We sat for a few hours. We talked about pride and humility and the big lessons we are learning.  She told me she is listening to every conference talk President Nelson has ever given and it is changing her.  When I told her it made me a little uncomfortable how kind everyone was being to me because I didn't always feel like I deserved it, she said, "Well I can start being mean to you."  And she could.  Shannon doesn't keep it a secret about how she feels and I love her for it.  We discussed cancer and the temple and her job and people we are worried about and faith and foreboding and our flabby arms and cleaning the church. So as you can see, basically everything.  

For the record, we would both be willing to pay extra tithing and not have to clean the church.

At one point she told me, "This is Deep Dark Shannon."  Then she told me what she thought about something.

Another time I said, "This doesn't paint me in a great light, but..."

There is really nothing like good friends.

Adam on stage:

Adam was in Chicago for a WGU graduation (and now he's in England, but not for a graduation).  He has been invited to be on the stage, but has never wanted the hassle.  With his new role, he was more invited (is that a thing?) to be on the stage, so he relented.

He texted that he was not used to having someone dress him and he sent this picture.  

He also said his team teased him about wearing a suit to a graduation when he usually wears jeans. 

It made me wish I was there with him.  I always wish I was with him. 

President Nelson:

I cried when I saw the article that he had passed away. (Braeden sent it.  He is my best source of Church announcements.)  We will miss him.  I never met him, but he had a huge impact on my life.  It is not even coincidental that Shannon and I had just talked about him and his teachings.  He made a difference in our thinking and discipleship and lives.

When I was at the temple, I was thinking about my grandparents.  I will love to be reunited with them someday.  I feel the same way about prophets.

Can I hear them speak again when I'm in heaven?  Because I would love that.

Heavy Heart:

I first heard about it from my friend Jill.  She was texting with condolences about President Nelson and the shooting/fire that happened at a church in Michigan.  Jill is a true example of Christlike love and I wish I was still her neighbor.

My heart aches for the people who, like me, got ready for church expecting to sing and pray and partake of the sacrament.  Like me, they were expecting to see their friends and hear words that brought them peace or perspective or guidance for whatever was happening in their lives.

I feel shocked and sad.  I feel like attacking schoolchildren and church worshippers is the ultimate cowardice.  Sometimes it is exhausting to live in a fallen world.

I do know that goodness and love and light win.  They always win.

I believe in Christ.

Grateful Friday

 Yesterday I had my training with my team.  I planned to leave at lunchtime and Alissa said, "Do you have time to get lunch together first?"  I did and it was good for me, nice to have the distraction because I was nervous about my appointment.

I am grateful to have a team I love.  Miriam is the nicest person ever, which is wonderful.  Alissa is a little bit snarky like I (possibly) am (sometimes) so we wrote each other messages on sticky notes and passed them back and forth during the training like we were in junior high.  Miriam just raised her eyebrows at us and smiled in her good-natured way.

 Mark and I went to the appointment.  I told him that I might cry.  He shrugged.  I don't think that he is even a tiny bit phased by me threatening to cry.

But I didn't even cry!

As soon as the doctor came in, Mark called Adam so he was on speaker phone and we could all absorb the information together.

My lymphoma is not curable, but treatable.  I will have chemo (6 cycles every 4 weeks that are two days long each time).  It should go into remission for several years and then we'll go from there.  (Maybe there will be even better treatment the next time it returns!)

It is a relief to know what to expect schedule-wise.  My little planning brain is happy about that.

My sense is that chemo is a bit like covid.  Everyone seems to have their own little individualized experience.  So I don't pretend to know exactly what to expect, but hopefully it will be manageable.

I need to get a port and get my insurance to approve and I need to have a chemo class.  

Also, I need to go see Braeden, Anna and QE during fall break.

Because of all of that, I'm set to start chemo on October 23.  I mapped out the dates and for three of the six cycles, I will get an extended recovery time because of Christmas break, Martin Luther King Day and President's Day.  So that works out pretty well.  

It all still feels like a lot.  It feels doable though?  I haven't made it this far to make it this far.

I'm grateful for answers and support and encouragement from numerous sources.  I'm grateful for the kindness of many, many people. I aspire to be more like them.

Whenever there is something awful, like a mass shooting, people offer "thoughts and prayers."

People also say, "Thoughts and prayers aren't enough.  Let's do something to make this stop."

I tend to agree with the second group, especially since I have schoolchildren in my heart.  I cannot discount the blessing of someone praying for you though.  I have felt help from others' prayers.

I have a dear friend who is very sick.  I have beloved family members with injuries and health worries.  It is all heavy and makes me sad, but I also have prayer.  

Also, I'm grateful that there is nothing wrong with hope.

I know

 Yesterday I felt SO sick before school.  It just kept getting worse.  I was nauseous and dizzy and just awful.

Right before I left for school, I prayed.  I just needed help and fast.  I drove to school and stopped by Jamie's office for a Diet Coke. 

I told my students that I wasn't feeling well and I had a headache and could they possibly not be crazy?

They did what third graders always do and show you that no, they can't do that.

Still, after about an hour, I started to feel better.  I was moving a bit gingerly; I wasn't 100%, but I felt SO much better.

Jeff had seen me first thing with my Diet Coke and he asked me how I was and I said not good.

At lunch he was in the cafeteria when I dropped off my class and he asked me how I was and I said that I was feeling better.  I said, "Prayers work."

He said, "Yes. They do."

I could never prove to anyone that it is prayer that is getting me through some of these days, but I know it just the same.

There was another miracle in the day.  I have a student who is just the naughtiest.  He is also so cute and so earnest.  He is as lacking in impulse control as he is in guile.  And his English is very wobbly and he asks me for clarification of words he doesn't understand which melts my heart and then he just goes on being so naughty.  He rolls on the floor.  He takes things from other people.  He throws his paper on the floor (often after he has ripped it up).  He is never in his seat.  Never.

I had a behavior chart for him Tuesday.  He didn't end up getting the reward because he spent the afternoon in the office.  Yesterday, he got his reward!  I was maybe lenient, but I wanted him to get the reward so that maybe he would stay motivated.

Maren was teaching writing (bless her!) as part of her student teaching and he was lying on the floor, having hurled his ripped paper in the garbage.  I coaxed him over to my desk and showed him his chart.  He needed 19 smiles to get a prize.  He counted how many he already had and I could see his mind doing a quick cost-benefit analysis and he finally decided he couldn't let writing slip by without earning a smile.  I said, "You'd better go ask for another paper."  He did.  He worked hard (mostly) the rest of the day.

After school he sifted through my prize box and said, "This is good!"

I tried to give him all the praise.  Do it again!  You can do it!

Today I have district training for 3rd grade teachers.  I got an email yesterday that my sub canceled the job.  That's always a little unsettling.  This morning I saw it was picked up by someone else.

I'm leaving the training early to go to my oncology appointment.  Mark is my plus one and Adam is going to join us on the phone from Chicago.  On the one hand I feel nervous about the appointment and on the other hand, maybe the days of white-knuckling it through the day are actually helping me.  

I can do this.

I keep proving it.

One day at a time.

Update (with side notes)

Yesterday:

I woke up with a headache.

(It lasted all day despite Tylenol, Advil. stretching, etc.  I think I'm structurally a bit of mess because of holding my arm in weird ways since my surgery.  And it's not like I was super strong to begin with.)

I got my pathology report emailed to me--not sure what it all means, but hopefully my doctor will. 

(I've managed to stay pretty calm.)  

Melva came and helped me in my classroom, which is so kind.

(She is making copies and laminating and it is helpful.)

My naughty student was naughty at lunch and spent the afternoon in the office.  

(It was sort of a restful afternoon if I'm being honest.)

I took a short walk with Kim. 

(First I checked Facebook and saw that the cougar situation had been "resolved.")

I talked to Braeden and Anna and Eleanor.  They had to go because their pancakes were ready.

(I suddenly wanted pancakes for dinner.)

As the evening went on, I got more and more sick with my headache.  I was nauseous and dizzy.  Mark got me my migraine medicine and some soda to sip.  I ate a few grapes for dinner.

(I no longer wanted pancakes.)

My head is still hurting.  I didn't sleep all that well.  I'm used to the whole headache/migraine/neck situation.  I think it is worse because of my surgery.

(It is also worse because I don't feel like I should take another day off school.)

More homework

 I met with my therapist last night.  I really like her.  

One of the things we talked about was my desire to come to a place of acceptance about my situation.  I think that the more accepting I am of my reality, the more peace I can feel.  In addition to--hey, peace is a good thing--I think that the more peace I feel, the more energy I can spend on healing and not on angst.

So I asked her (tongue in cheek) if there was a way to fast track acceptance.  She said, "You're not going to like my answer."

She said, "In order to heal, you need to feel.  And there's no timeline."

I said, "You're right, I don't like that answer."

She said that I need to be real on my blog.  She gave me homework to watch Inside Out and Inside Out 2.

Honestly, I like her homework.

So here's me being real:

Sunday was kind of awful.  I felt sick.  I felt like I let people down, not just at school, but at church (primary chorister--it was the primary program and I didn't go to church) and also my family.

I feel like a shell of myself.  I feel like I'm not me.  I'm used to being capable and organized and on top of things.

I'm not used to floundering and feeling limited and getting help with everything.  And I don't like it.

Also, I had a big heart to heart with Adam on Sunday night.  I told him that I want to have more faith and I want to be more optimistic, but it is hard to maintain.  He is going out of town this week for an extra long trip and that makes me feel extra anxious.  And I'm also trying to come up with the worst case scenario that I'll find out on Thursday when I get (hopefully) my treatment plan. 

Adam asked, "Why are you doing that?!?"

I said, "I don't know...It's what I do."

He said, "What is one time that has ever served you?"

I couldn't come up with one.

He talked to me about my feelings, my fears, my illness, they are all OK and they will come and go, but faith is a principle of action.  I need to choose to have faith and then act on that faith.

It resonated with me.

Of course it is something that I've learned all my life, but sometimes things just stick when you need them to stick.

For not the first time, I felt the rallying of my pioneer ancestors.  They had faith to put one foot in front of the other.  They didn't know what awaited them (Sagebrush.  Sagebrush awaited them.) but they went anyway.  They kept going.

I went to school yesterday and I did my best and I felt frustrated by several things including but not limited to why can't those dang kids keep track of their computers?  We had more missing and they were mostly unplugged.  We got everything sorted and then at lunch I went on Etsy and ordered a sticker set where you put a color coded sticker on a Chromebook and one on the charging cord and one on the computer cart so maybe they will be able to get it straight.  As a bonus, they're pretty colors.

Unlike my pioneer ancestors, I have a credit card.

(Related, my colored pencils arrived.  I'm going to color when I watch Inside Out.)

Here's something else.  

Yesterday I sent an email to the parents of my students and told them about my diagnosis.  I got message after message telling me they would pray for me.

It is humbling to feel so much love from people.  I don't deserve it, but I appreciate it all the same.

Weekend

Things I did this weekend:

Adam helped me shower on Saturday morning and remove most of the bandages which was a project.  He used unisolve and then put one of the patches Mark uses to cover his infusion set over the top of the remaining bandage.  It's handy to have a diabetic around to pilfer his supplies when needed.

I went shopping with Adam.  That mostly meant shopping a little and then sitting in the car to wait for Adam.  It was nice to be out in the world though and good to be with Adam.  He helps me a lot when I need to talk through things.

Me = big feelings.

I ordered colored pencils from Amazon.

I decided the book I'm reading is boring me so I'm going to abandon it.  (It's by Sandra Dallas and I usually like her books, but I'm not feeling it.)

Marie Louise brought dinner which was so nice of her!  Everyone is kinder to me than I deserve.  

I have a sinus/ear infection which isn't great and I watched church and listened to a recording of the talk Enoch gave in his ward.

We drove Emma to the airport (an excuse to see her before her trip to Disneyland).

I found Marie Louise's 6th great grandparents (I think--the 1700s are muddy) and that was exciting.

The sky was moody all weekend and the leaves on the mountains have turned colors and some of the leaves in the valley on moving that way too.  I love autumn.  

Grateful Friday

 I am grateful to be home! (I don't know why I hesitated if I would need to take today off also.)

Surgery is rough.  I had to be at the hospital at 2:00 pm and then didn't actually go back to surgery until 3:45 and we got home at 6:30 pm.  I would have preferred it to be earlier, but no one asked.

I'm grateful it is over.  One more thing behind me.

I'm also grateful for how kind and caring everyone (friends, family, the hospital staff) was.  I'm grateful for modern medicine.  I'm grateful for scientists and doctors and nurses that have devoted their time and talents to healing.  The doctor explained to us before the procedure that he had a tool that would guide him right to the lymph node because of the tracker that was on it.  Pretty remarkable.

The original surgeon I had was on vacation this week so I had a different doctor in the same practice.  He said, "He probably would have had me do this anyway because I do these all the time and he hasn't had as much experience."

I'm grateful I got the experienced guy.

I wasn't given a pain pill prescription and I'm glad because I don't like how that makes me feel.  I was told to alternate Tylenol and Advil.  Adam gave me Tylenol right when we got home at 6:30.  He said he would give me more at 10:30.  I told him I would be asleep and I was.

I woke up at 11:30, in pain.  I got up and got the Advil and sat in my chair.  I reached across with my right hand for a notebook and pen and dropped the notebook.  It fell between the end table and chair.  I could get it with my left arm, but not now.  I looked at it and thought:  that is where you live now.  I got another pen.  I wrote down:  Advil 11:30.  I ate part of a Larabar so the Advil wouldn't hurt my empty stomach and took a drink of water and then got up to go back to bed.

Then I remembered I had never taken the Advil.

I still had enough anesthesia in me to be on the struggle bus! 

I took the Advil and from then on had a pretty restless night.  My lymph node was removed from my left armpit and I am a side sleeper and either side hurt to sleep on.  I know I'll heal though.  This won't be forever.  I'm grateful for my body's ability to heal.

I was not waving, I was drowning

 Oh boy.

I was gone Monday and Tuesday (didn't plan to be gone Monday) and everything was wrecked.  The more consecutive days you're gone, the worse it gets.

There were three computers just missing.  (When I offered candy two were found.)

I have never had a class so abysmal at computers.  They are each assigned a number but some of them just grab whatever computer suits their fancy and it is chaotic, especially if I'm not there to rein it in.

Two handwriting books disappeared.  Again, I offered candy and one was found.  Where could the other one be?!?

(Maybe hiding with the computer somewhere.)

I'm sure it will all turn up, (I didn't empty every desk) but it added a whole element to the day.

I just plain have not had enough time with these children to get our routines established.  Cancer did not ask me for a good time frame.

My students were unhappy that I'm going to be gone again.  They don't know about the cancer--the big reveal will be next week after I get my treatment plan (hopefully!). But I told them I was having health problems and I needed to go to the doctor some more.

One of them asked, "Are you going to die?!?"

I told them no.

Ugh.

There is no way they aren't freaking out when they find out I have cancer.

Miriam and Alissa got me up to speed after school and Alissa said, "You are doing great.  You need to know that you are doing great."

I feel like the hot mess express, so that was kind of her.

Matt also stopped me and said he thought that Parent Teacher Conferences were going to exhaust me.  I hadn't thought about it, but they exhaust me when I am healthy!  He had an idea for how to spread it over more days.

I'm lucky to have so many people helping me and thinking of things for me and just being on my side.

My surgery is later today.  I was hoping for an early call time, but I didn't get one.  The good news of that is that I brought home a bunch of school stuff to work on while I'm waiting to go to the hospital.

I will eventually get everything under control.  Right?  Right?!?

Weights and counter weights

Weights:

I have cancer.  It makes me feel stressed and left behind at times.  I feel sick.  I have to have procedures that are sometimes painful and sometimes uncomfortable and always inconvenient. I can't make solid plans because I don't know how I will feel/if I'll be having chemo.

I am concerned about the illness/injuries of people I love deeply.  They are suffering.

The news.  When the polarization couldn't get worse, it did.  Also I hate reading about the health stuff happening.  A few days ago I saw an article about the funding that was being cut to cancer research.  I have skin in that fight.  I didn't read the article because it felt too stressful.

I want to be at school.  That is all.

I want to be more help to my family.  Just because I have cancer doesn't mean their lives suddenly got easier.  Adam's got a lot harder with a new job responsibility.  

Counterweights:

I have a lot of support and help with my cancer.  Everyone is so kind to me.  Adam and our kids are willing to bend over backwards to help.  They adjust their schedules.  They pick up the slack.  They listen.  Adam recorded a message for his team to watch and he hated doing it and felt super awkward about it.  I asked, "So why did you record it instead of doing it in person?"

He said, "Because I am going to be at the hospital with you."

I appreciate the help I get at school and my ministering sisters checking in with me and my friends and family praying for me and supporting me.  I rarely feel deserving of all the love and encouragement and help I receive.

It rained and the sharp smell of sagebrush came through the windows yesterday morning and that is the comforting scent of my childhood after rain.

In the same vein, we are getting closer to jacket and sweater weather.  Jackets and sweaters are my love language.

I have a comfortable and safe home.  I have a car that works.  I have a job I love.  Even though I can't be there and feel limited at times, I love my job.

Also, it occurs to me sometimes:  I can just be happy.  That is such a freeing and wonderful thought.  In the middle of everything, there is nothing wrong with hope.  There is nothing keeping me from deciding to be happy.

Adam had to be at a work event, but Emma and Mark took care of my convalescence yesterday. (And the procedure was easier than I expected.  It was more superficial than they thought and they just did local anesthesia and no overall sedation.)  My arm is sore, but it could be worse.  And Emma and Mark are pretty great.  Emma and I made a slideshow assigning Disney characters to Brooklyn 99 characters and then we did the same with Mark, assigning Disney characters to Parks and Rec characters.  It was entertaining and I could lie on the couch.

The biggest counterweight I have is my faith in Jesus Christ and my knowledge that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me and has a plan for me.  In my weakness, I sometimes drift away from that into a sea of what ifs and woe is me.  I am grateful for the reminders I have to look up, to remember, to seek that peace that I know is there for me. 

  

Feeling poor in spirit

 I had a come apart on Sunday night.  It was not pretty.  

Sometimes it is all just too much for me.  I decided I needed to think it through though.  Are there false narratives making me feel worse?

The impetus to it all was that I felt sick.  I always feel sick, but I felt sicker.  I felt like maybe I shouldn't go to school, especially in light of the surgery and all the things.

And that was super frustrating. 

I like going to school.  I like my job.  I think the worst part of it though, is that I felt like I was letting people down.

And that, I think, is a false narrative that I need to get over.

My sub will actually get paid.  Someone isn't doing me a favor.

I do actually have sick days that I can take.

My students don't need me to be there to be happy children.

When I send my sub plans to my team, someone does need to print them and put them on my desk and maybe pull some copies out of a file somewhere.  It takes less than 5 minutes.

So sick days aren't imposing on anyone, not really.

I need to write that on a sticky note and put it on every surface of my house.

I had similar feelings about being the primary chorister.  I have missed a lot of church and I feel like I'm not on top of things.  I am working below my old capacity.  People tell me that it's OK; I'm doing my best.

All right.  But I hate that.

I stayed home from school yesterday with Mark.  I could do worse.

I talked to my mom and it is good to feel understood by someone who knows the frustration of health limitations.

It's nice to know that being poor in spirit isn't such a bad thing.  It means I'm being humbled.  It means I need to rely on Jesus Christ more.  There's nothing wrong with that.

We went to my school last night and I righted the ship after having a sub.  I pulled out everything I had prepared for today's sub.  I read the sub's notes about how naughty some of my students had been.  I wish I could be there today and I'm grateful that Jamie is going to do math and Maren is going to teach writing.  I hope today goes better.

Today I have my SAVI scout procedure.  Adam is going to take me and be with me and then he will need to leave because he has a work event tonight.  Emma's going to come and take me home and spend the evening.  I need to be at the hospital at 11:45 and they said I could leave at 5:00.  It feels like a bigger deal than I was expecting.  I'm grateful I have a deep bench.

Weekend

 Friday was a rough day physically.  I felt kind of lightheaded all day.  I hadn't slept well and that impacts me.

It was also a pretty good day, full of the ups and downs that make teaching 3rd grade interesting.

One of my students walked in first thing and I overheard her tell another student, "If today was pocket day, I would win."

She showed how her jacket had not only outer pockets, but inner pockets.

We've never had a pocket day; I've never heard of a pocket day.  Now I want to have one though. And I want there to be a prize.  And I want her to win.

I've been reading The Million Dollar Shot to my class.  They were sitting on the kiva and clutching each other in anticipation at the climax and then stood up and cheered.

I love reading to children.  It is one of my favorite pastimes.

I had afternoon recess duty.  The older sister of one of my boys, a sixth grader, came up to me and asked how he was doing in class.  Is he behaving?  Is he working hard?  It's not the first time she has interrogated me.

Another boy came up.  He is rather persnickety.  When I call on him in class, he looks around in contempt at the noise that is always happening and says, "I'll wait."

Like he thinks everyone will get silent for him.

I finally told him that if he wants to say something, he needs to just say it.

Anyway, he came up to me and said, in his imperious voice, "Miss, two boys are fighting."

It was the younger brother and another boy.  The sister turned on her heel and started walking toward him, arms pumping.

Older sisters are amazing.

I got there and she relinquished the scene to me.  I talked to the boys and they said they were only playing.  I didn't really believe them, but they said they wouldn't fight so the older sister and I were both satisfied.

(I'm guessing their mom heard about it.)

On the heels of that, a soccer ball went into the parking lot.  They know they aren't supposed to go get it and most of the boys turned to me for help.  I was walking over there and one of Alissa's boys darted out into the parking lot.  

I took him by the arm when he returned to the playground and said, "You know you aren't supposed to go in the parking lot.  Cars aren't expecting you to be out there and it isn't safe."

He sneered at me and said, "And?"

I said, "And you are staying with me for the rest of the recess."

He scornfully asked, "And?"

I said, "Nothing else."

Then I don't think he knew what to say and I just held onto his upper arm for the rest of the five minutes.  He is naughty and disrespectful, but I'm stronger.  (For now.  The little hooligan.)

After school, the teachers were invited to play pickle ball in the gym.  I for sure didn't have that in me, but I went to watch my teammates and cheer them on.  They finished their match and I got up to go back to my classroom to work and they said, "We're going to play again, but you don't have to stay."

That is the trouble with having teammates who were college athletes.  They're...athletic.  I don't mind though.  They apply all the discipline and hard work that propelled them through college basketball to being great 3rd grade teammates.

Saturday was restful and I also felt angsty because I just want to do stuff instead of get Adam or Mark to help me do stuff.  It is working out OK though.  All part of the fun....

In the evening we went to Night Under the Stars with Dave and Nola at BYU.  It was a dinner and outdoor concert to thank the donors and sponsors of the athletic booster club.  We are neither, but happy to be along for the ride.  The event was on the baseball field.  We had a delicious dinner and then when it was dark, they had this great show with Savannah Stevenson, who was Glinda for three years in a West End production of Wicked in London and has performed in lots of other theater roles as well.  Also, Casey Elliot, a singer from Gentry performed.  They were amazing.  I got super tired, but I also enjoyed it.

It was disorienting when they turned on the lights at the end and we found ourselves on a baseball field!

At church I felt like I needed to sit down every time I stood up to lead the singing for primary (our program is this Sunday!).  I only felt worse as the day progressed.  My immune system is not great and I had congestion and a lot of pressure in my ears and just an overwhelming desire to lie down.  

The presentation of the slideshows helped.  Emma had requested we make slideshows.  Adam and Mark did not, but Emma and I did.  Mine was a presentation about which Disney characters could be characters in Pride and Prejudice. Important work, but it didn't surprise me when Emma's slideshow eclipsed mine.  She had a presentation about two Nepalese men who climbed Mt. Everest then paraglided down, kayaked to the Ganges River and ended up in the Bay of Bengal.  She had maps and pop quizzes and lots of interesting facts about it.

I love having Emma in my life.

Grateful Friday

Yesterday was a little rocky at school.  Everyone was a little off.  A lot of people have ties to UVU and it made the earth feel less stable beneath us somehow that something horrific had happened in our corner of the world.

 If you look for goodness, you'll find it and there are many things for me to be grateful for.

I was in the faculty room, heating up my lunch in the microwave, and Laura, a second grade teacher, came over to me and said, "I feel like I want to give you a hug."

Word is spreading and I'm OK with it.

She looked me in the eyes and said, "We are here for you.  We are your village and whatever you need."

And I know she meant it.

I appreciate so much all the in person and in text and over the phone encouragement and support that I get.  I truly feel undeserving.  Everyone is so very good at reflecting the light of Christ.  Their goodness blesses me.

I also felt better yesterday than I had felt in a while.  It ebbs and flows for no good reason.  I don't know, but I'll take the good days.

Mark had been saving his money and also sold a bunch of Magic the Gathering cards  to buy a new computer.  He had been researching and found what he wanted at Costco.  I had the energy for it and we headed out.  Emma called and we all three got to talk and that is always a treat.  Sometimes, like that, I just feel normal and I like it.  Emma was asking me about some plants a coworker had gifted her and we were talking about propagation.

Mark said, "You guys are a lot smarter than me when it comes to plants."

I said, "No, Mark.  We're just a lot smarter than you." (Gentle parenting was never my strong suit.)

Then Mark started telling Emma about the new computer he was wanting and how it would be easier to do his work for his Excel class and he and Emma started talking about Excel and I didn't know what they were talking about so maybe I'm not smarter....

(I didn't bring that up.)

Mark and I got the computer and some peaches and squash soup (for me) and some gluten free stuff (for him).  We stopped at MOD for dinner and I ate half my pizza so I could take the rest in my lunch today.

I don't take it for granted when I have the energy and wellness to just do things like that.

The best thing I'm grateful about today is that Adam came home last night.  That makes everything brighter.

A lot

 Yesterday was a lot.

First there was the scandal.  "Teacher, the sub read us the book and there was kissing in it!"

(I loved how they kind of blamed the sub for it.)

I had them share the gossip with me.  The main character's mom, who is a widow, started dating the single dad of another friend.  And they kissed.

It was a lot to process.

The second scandal, no less dire, was that a girl was stung by a wasp the day before, also when the sub was there.

At recess.  The humanity!

At varying times during the day it itched or hurt and I kept saying, "That means it is healing." (I had no medical expertise to back up this claim.)

My classroom was hot.  Riley kept coming to fix it and the AC would run briefly and then stop again.

I am unreasonably sensitive to heat right now.  It is part of lymphoma.  Not my favorite part.  (Do I have a favorite part?)

I was also discombobulated after being gone for 1 1/2 days.  It is hard to get your bearings after that.

All of this would have been enough to keep me on my toes all day, but then something truly terrible happened.

There was a shooting at UVU.  Mark wisely, kindly, texted me that it had happened, but he was already home before I had a chance to hear about it from anyone else.

A right wing commentator was there speaking and a shooter shot and killed him from a building where Mark would have been in class if it had happened on Tuesday.  He walked right by where the shooting happened an hour before it happened.

He had several close friends who were in the lockdown on campus that followed.  All the nearby elementary schools went into a secure lockdown (not the kind where you have to hide, but the kind where you keep everyone inside--no recess or leaving the building.  Full stop.)

I came home and hugged Mark tight.

I showed him the photos on the NYTimes and asked him if they were any of his friends.  It is surreal that it happened there.

It is surreal that we live in a country where it happens all the time and nothing changes.  

It is a lot.

Back at it

 Yesterday was a long day.  I felt a lot better as the day went on and I am glad I stayed home for that reason, but I felt antsy to be at school.

And that is a good thing.

School is so physically hard and sometimes I think, "I should just quit and be home."  Really, going to school is a big help to me mentally.  It distracts me and I enjoy it, even though it is hard.

I talked on the phone with Braeden and Mark visited me in my office before he went to class and after he returned home from class.  I talked to Adam a few times as he was driving from Nashville to Atlanta.  

He decided it was a wash time-wise between driving and flying when you considered navigating airports and car rentals so he just drove.

Also, he likes to drive. (I talked to Enoch yesterday and I told him Adam would have been a very happy long haul truck driver.)

He said he wasn't going to stop at Buc-ee's and I acted like I believed him.

He sent me this:

I miss that kid.

I am grateful to go back to school tomorrow and I'm glad everyone there is so kind and patient with me.  I have had multiple nightmares over the years about being home and realizing I didn't get a sub.

Well, that happened.

On Monday night I wrote sub plans and sent emails to people and got everything arranged except for the (really big) detail of putting in for a sub!

Yesterday morning, I thought, "I wonder who my sub is.  I didn't see an email."

Then I felt the sickening realization that I had forgotten to put in a sub request!  I quickly emailed Rachel, one of the secretaries.  She said, "Don't worry.  It's taken care of."

So kind!  I still feel very foolish about it, but I'm grateful for the safety net that cleaned up my mess.

I finally got my procedures scheduled for next week!  Guess what I did first thing? (Scheduled my subs!)

My therapist told me to

 I have a therapist!  I have never had one before, but no time like the present, right?  She is in Florida and we talked over the computer and I really liked her.

I also had a rough day yesterday.  I felt pretty awful.  I called it quits at lunchtime and went home and left my class in the capable hands of the emergency sub/aide at our school.

Later in the afternoon I went to my appointment with the surgeon.  It was at first a little comical.  I heard him go next door into a different exam room and say, "Thelma!  I hear you need some lymph nodes removed."

Except he was in a room with a couple who only spoke Spanish.  I heard them responding in Spanish and him talking about my cancer doctor and I finally intervened and told the receptionist that he thought he was talking to me, but he wasn't.  She sighed and got up from her chair.  Maybe it isn't the first time it has happened.

I went back in my little exam room and I heard him say to the receptionist, "I thought she seemed young for that."

He came in and introduced himself and I said, "I'm the old one."

He looked very awkward that I'd overheard him, but clearly those walls are thin....

He was a nice enough guy otherwise.  He hesitates to remove something that isn't one of the diseased lymph nodes and he couldn't readily feel one.  He said he'd look at the PET scan again and talk to my doctor some more and that made me (you're not going to believe this...) cry.  

It is so frustrating that I feel like I am getting sicker, but nothing is happening treatment-wise.

He handed me a box of Kleenex (I get handed a box of Kleenex a lot).  He was sympathetic and I could appreciate his point of view, but ugh.  

He called me a little while later with a new plan to have a radiologist insert of sort of device that will help them find the lymph node.  He is going out of town next week.  He said, "Is it OK if a different surgeon does that procedure?"

I said yes. The sooner the better and also, Adam is home all next week.  So that is progress.  It isn't fast progress, but at least it is moving.

I met with my therapist for the first time and I liked her a lot.  She told me a lot of the same things that I have been getting from other sources:  one day at a time/think no thought for the morrow/give us this day our daily bread.  Her take was to focus on the here and now.

She gave me homework to plan one fun thing to do every week.  She also wondered if I journal.  I said, "Well, I have a blog."  I told her that I don't really have a big following or anything, I mostly just do it for myself and so my kids can read our family history someday.

She said, "You're other homework is to keep blogging."

I like easy homework.

Today I'm going to rework my reading groups and refine my future chemo sub plans.  I'm going to rest and read and eat small bland meals (which is what my doctor said to do and I think it is helping).  I'm also going to put a pinch of Celtic salt that Molly told me to order from Amazon in a glass of water and drink it over the course of the day.  She told me it has minerals I need and so why not?  I'll think of the strength of my English and Scottish forebearers every time I take a sip.  

Margaret Livingston was the first wife of Archibald Gardner.  They were born in Scotland and crossed the plains to the Salt Lake Valley in 1847.  She has always been an inspiration to me. This is an excerpt from Archibald's reminiscences:

my Wife Driving the horse teem all the way even to over the Big Mountain arriving in the valey on the first Day of October & Marget was Born on the 5 Night or before Day on the 6[.] So you can se what the Lord can Do to Strenthen the back for the Burthen[.]

Margaret was their fifth child and she was born days after they arrived in the valley.  

Maybe Margaret Livingston grew up eating Celtic salt and it made her such a powerhouse!  (More than that I agree with Archibald that the Lord is who strengthens us.)  I've got His help and the salt.  I'm set!

Today I have what I need and I'm going to focus on today.

Weekend

Friday I came home from school spent.  I always come home from school spent on Friday, so that isn't new, but I feel extra spent lately.

Also, when I was driving home, I thought, "Why wasn't I deliriously happy every day I didn't have cancer?!?"

Then I thought about all the things I have that other people may be without and I should be deliriously happy about those things--or at least grateful.

My mind shifts from sad/sick/discouraged to grateful and back again a dizzying amount of times in a day.

When Adam got home we did the I don't know what do you feel like for dinner game which we are really good at playing but not that good at resolving.  Adam usually wins though.  He figures out something I want.  He got out a small rectangle tray and put grapes, Triscuits and two types of cheese on it and presented it in front of me with a flourish.  He said, "It might not be enough crackers, but I have a solution."

He put the box of crackers in front of me too.

We are very fancy on a Friday night.

We remembered that there was a new season of the Great British Baking Show and it made my whole night.  Netflix loves me.

We watched and picked favorites and were not even a little bit surprised by the person who got eliminated because they self destructed from the beginning.

I love the high stakes drama of baking cakes.  It reminds me of my favorite thrill rides at Disneyland:  Peter Pan and Small World.  I was born for gentleness.

Saturday was a restorative day.  We went to the temple and the grocery store (not exactly restorative, but important) and then I had a phone call with my cousin Molly.  She is amazing.  She gave me a lot of good advice and loving kindness.

I feel supported. 

Molly told me that the same power that created my body can heal my body and that that power was Heavenly Father.

I told her that our grandparents must be so happy that their granddaughters are being so kind to another granddaughter who needs help.  Margaret sends me the most loving and supportive texts, Hannah told me in the quavering with emotion voice that sounded so much like our grandma, "I am praying so hard for you!" and Molly is dispensing her wisdom in such helpful measure.  

I spent most of Sunday in power saving mode.  (That sounds better than I did nothing.)

I didn't feel well at all.  I watched church online and fell asleep towards the end.  I feel like I'm getting sicker which is frustrating because I am not starting any kind of treatment yet.

On Sunday afternoon, Adam left for the airport. I usually don't mind so much when Adam goes on business trips, but it stresses me out now.  My baseline emotional state is precarious and he rights the ship a lot.

I'm grateful I have Mark.  When I come home from school, he comes and hugs me and kisses me on the forehead and asks how my day went and he is just this steady and sweet presence in my life.  When he was a little boy, he would randomly say, "Mom?  I love you."  This is the kind of energy he still has.

I'm grateful for Braeden.  He called (FaceTime so I got to see QE).  When he was three and a lot of our stuff got damaged in the moving truck from Connecticut to California, I remember I cried and he brought me his blanket.  This is the kind of energy he still has.  

I'm also grateful for Emma.  She came over yesterday and played some choir music for us that she is arranging.  When she was a little girl, if I ever was missing tape, glue, scissors, a stapler, or anything like that, it was always in that creative girl's room.  This is the kind of energy she still has.

Since Adam had already left, I presented the dinner plan to them:  you're making it.  They found some Trader Joe's shepherds pie in the freezer and it was good.  While it was cooking, they put away laundry that had been languishing in our room and cleaned up the kitchen--putting away the Costco stuff from earlier in the week.  

Everything needs to wait its turn around here.  

Just having them do some stuff like that improved my mood and then just being with them improved my mood too.  

I was settling in with my book after Emma left and Mark retreated to the basement (introverts unite separately).  There was a knock on the door and it was Shannon.  She burst into tears and threw her arms around me and said, "I just heard!"

This is all teaching me how to be a better friend.  I think I would second guess myself and feel like I was intruding, but it just lifted me up.

She came in and sat on the couch and we chatted.  I told her all the cancer stuff and then we talked about family stuff and then we talked about TV shows we have been watching.  It felt good to laugh about my obsession with The Great British Baking Show and this National Geographic show she's been watching about lions.

I don't know.  We might just be middle-aged.

Every day, I get just enough.

Grateful Friday

...the tender mercies of the Lord are over all those whom he hath chosen, because of their faith, to make them mighty even unto the power of deliverance.

1 Nephi 1;20

Yesterday morning, I woke up at 3:30.  I tried to go back to sleep, but I just know how to make my day harder.  I excel at it.

So I was extra tired and prayed, prayed, prayed for help for the day.

Every day, I am helped.  Every day I cannot deny the little ways that add up to Thelma surviving the day.  It is remarkable.

During my prep yesterday I went in Jamie's office and cried.  She listened to me and reassured me and then Maren came in and hugged me.  I am so grateful that I work with some of my honest to goodness friends.  They are these strong and resilient and good and kind women and they hold me up some days.

At lunch, when I was feeling like I still had a lot of day left to go, I saw that Enoch had sent me a reel on instagram.  It was a clip of a talk by Elder Holland and it was 100% what I needed in that moment.

Katie, the school counselor, offered to zhuzh my class charter for me after I told her I was terrible at graphic design.  I said yes please.  She created a nice poster and said she would order it from the print shop for me.  

In the afternoon I had recess duty and an aide said, "Why don't you let me cover your recess duty.  You go get a drink and sit down."

(This is to say I looked as bad as I felt apparently.)

I saw a text from Marie Louise during my sit down.  She was just checking in.  My friends are better than I deserve.

I checked in with Matt (who has been gone) about Melva volunteering in my classroom.  He thought it was a great idea and then we had a conversation about the little blessings we get that help us get through.  He itemized all the things I have in my favor.

(He didn't mention himself, but he makes my list.)

I talked to Braeden on my way home and besides him telling me to quit crying because I would go blind (true: herpes simplex in my eye, made worse by crying), he was as ever, a tremendous help to me.  He is wise and empathetic and what I need.

On my doorstep, there was a loaf of bread from Kneaders (still warm) and a jar of homemade jam from Ami, one of my ministering sisters.

So yes, I had a rough day.  Also, I had a day overflowing with blessings and help.

Inching along

 Yesterday after five phone calls (!) I was able to get an appointment finally scheduled with the surgeon about my biopsy.

This isn't the actual biopsy, but a consultation to "see if the surgeon can do it."

My lymph nodes aren't easily accessible apparently.  To which I say, well, you're a surgeon right?  Dig a little deeper?

I obviously don't understand it all, but I don't need to.  I just need someone who does.

The more tests I have and the more conversations I have about the results, the more confused I get.  It isn't cut and dried.  The tests that hopefully will give the full picture don't.  I am trying (50% succeeding) to not worry about it, to be optimistic, to know that God is in His heaven and I don't need to have it all in hand.

I feel a rising panic about all the stuff that isn't getting done, both at home and at school.

I am used to being competent.  I am used to being on top of things.  I am used to striving and achieving.

And I am not.

I am over here doing the bare minimum and only what is most urgent.  A lot of stuff is falling through the cracks and if I were someone advising me I would say, "It's OK.  It doesn't have to be perfect.  Just do what you can."

But that is really hard advice to take.  

Take it I must, because I am so tired.  All of the time.  Everything is really hard when it feels like you have cement shoes and a cotton ball brain.

I'll keep doing what I can.  I'll keep inching along.

What I learned

 I saw a text message from Marianne this morning:

Did you learn anything?

She meant about my PET scan.  I didn't.  But I think I did learn something.

My doctor was supposed to call yesterday.  I checked my phone throughout the day.  Once school was out, I turned the ringer on and carried my phone with me every time I left the classroom.

He didn't call.

On my drive home, I called the doctor's office.  They said, "He has the note.  He will call you.  Probably at the end of the day."

So I waited.  

I had an increasingly anxious knot in my stomach as the time slipped by.  5:00 turned to 5:15 turned to 5:30.  I wondered when his end of the day was.  Did he make calls after hours?

5:30 turned to 5:45 turned to 6:00.

That's when I knew he probably wasn't calling.  I started feeling mad.  Why couldn't he just call?!?  I know he has the results.  I thought about those rage rooms where you throw dishes and things.  Maybe I needed that.

Then, on the heels of that idea, I stopped.

What if I didn't get mad?  What if I didn't let it ruin my (and Adam's and Mark's) evening?  If I did get mad and cry (I definitely felt like crying) and moaned all evening, it would probably disrupt my much needed sleep, but it wouldn't mean that the doctor would call any sooner.

So I decided to just not.

I still feel frustrated by the entire thing, but I had a normal evening.  We even started watching The Thursday Murder Club (I was too tired to finish it).

So I didn't learn anything new about my health, but I did learn that I am in charge of me.  I can decide where to focus my limited energy.

Weekend

On Friday I had an astonishingly bad day.  I cried (twice) at school.  The first time my students saw me and the second time I was talking to Riley and I have never not ever seen a more uncomfortable person in my life than when I was crying to Riley.

Sigh.

I came home and took a quick nap.

My nurse called about my PET scan.  She didn't have very much concrete or positive to say about my case and made me really feel worse.

My doctor may call today.  I'm trying to manage my expectations.

I drove to Salt Lake City (I called Marianne on the way and cried to her which is way more comfortable than crying to Riley).  I picked up Emma and we headed to Starr Valley.  There was an accident on the freeway that delayed us 2 1/2 hours.

If you're going to be delayed in traffic for 2 1/2 hours, you could do worse than Emma.  Still.  I was just so tired.

We finally got to Starr Valley and I was enveloped in hugs by Adam and Mark and Braeden.  (QE was already asleep.). I loved having our kids there with us.  Both nights they were there, they stayed up way too late talking.  It is a joy to me that they love being together and I love the way they can make each other laugh.

Saturday we went to Elko to the temple open house.  It was wonderful.  I loved being there with everyone.  Olivia hooked me up with a wheelchair which I appreciated.  I can walk fine, just standing in the line was tiring.  

It was neck craning to talk to Enoch sitting in the wheelchair, but I was still very happy to see that kid.

I don't so much take pictures at things like this as take pictures later from my sisters when they post them.  

Olivia hasn't posted any yet, but here's one from Marianne:

Braeden (holding QE), Ammon, Mason, Hyrum, Enoch, my dad, Marcos
Me, Emma, Melanee, Clarissa, Robert, Jennifer, Ruby, Olivia, my mom, Charlotte, Lucette, Savannah, Adam and Mark
Olivia, Deseret, Boston, Marianne, Azure, Omar, Cormac and Ammon

As I texted my family, being in the celestial room with this group felt like the very best kind of foreshadowing.  What a blessing that families are forever.

Mark took this picture of us (I don't know where Braeden and QE were):

We went to the stake center and visited a while, waiting for our lunch reservation.  (We didn't know how long the line would be at the temple, so we went extra early.). Our parents treated us to an amazing lunch at the Star.  Worth all the hype.

I loved so much spending time with QE and I was grateful Braeden had been willing to make the drive.  We read stories and played.  She loved her cousins (Braeden's cousins).  She decided Savannah's whole purpose in life was to be with her.  Azure and Charlotte braided her hair and Lucette draped her in play jewelry at my parents' house.  She was in heaven.

Of course I am always quick to brag about her, but listen.  She is so funny and so smart!

We went outside and she saw that there was a piece of cardboard stuck in the grill of Loki, their car.  She laughed and said, "Look!  Loki has a tooth!"

Saturday afternoon, I took a nap and then we visited at my parents' house then went to Marianne's for dinner.  I was "in charge" of the reunion, which means I made a google doc for food assignments, but we really couldn't have done it without Marianne.  As my mom said, "She has a lot of capacity."

Sunday we had breakfast at Olivia's then church.  Clarissa had asked Emma to be a part of a quartet singing at church because Hyrum was going to do it and he was sick.  My girl can be a tenor.  It was so nice to hear her sing with Marianne and Clarissa and Marcos.  

I saw my cousins Margaret and Hannah and Jordan at church and my aunt Claudia and uncle Demar.  It was good to see them.  Bonus reunion.

Margaret and Hannah both hugged me tight and cried with me a little (also easier than crying to Riley).

Our kids all left and Adam and I remained in Starr Valley.  We had lunch at Marianne's and celebrated Lucette's birthday and visited and just enjoyed each other.  

There's happiness and then there is sitting between my sisters happiness.

Ammon's family left and Enoch's family was about to leave and my dad was about to drive Olivia and Ruby and Charlotte back to Lund, when Tabor showed up.  

Another bonus.

So we all crammed into my parents' living room and visited some more.

(I told Tabor that I really love him because I had been super comfortable in a recliner at Marianne's.)

Adam and I went to our house.  I called Melva, my Relief Society president, because she had texted me and asked me to call.

She said that she'd been praying to know how to help me and she had gone to the temple praying how she could help me.  She said the other night she had the idea that she could volunteer in my classroom.  She worked as an aide at Bonneville for 7 years and she knows the ropes.  She said, "You need help, but I know they don't have the budget to hire an aide."  

I said, "Melva, that is so kind, but you are busy.  You don't need to do that."

She said, "Then why would Heavenly Father give me that idea, Thelma?  Why?"

She talked me into it and I cried because I was just overwhelmed by her goodness.

Later Marianne and Robert and Clarissa stopped by and we visited a bit.  After a while, Marianne said, "You look so tired.  We should go."

She was not wrong, but I wished she was.  I would have loved to stay up late talking and playing the game Clarissa brought.

Monday Adam assembled the stools we brought and we hung pictures.

Emma bought me that print in Snohomish at Joyworks.  I hung it in the green room.

In the blue room we hung the paper I got in Sweden on Midsommar and framed:

I think my grandpa would be pleased to have Swedish stuff hanging there.

Adam did the bulk of the packing up and loading up and we drove back to Pleasant Grove.  Before leaving Starr Valley, we stopped at my parents' house to say good-bye and visit a little.  Adam and my dad gave me a priesthood blessing.  I don't know why I was gifted with such parents and was blessed with such a husband.

But I don't take it for granted.

It was a wonderful weekend and now, back to school. (And back to trying to figure out my cancer: my side hustle.)