Grateful Friday

 Well, turns out chemo isn't exactly in my skill set.  I wasn't very good at it.

They accessed the port, gave me Tylenol, gave me a shot in my stomach, gave me a steroid (them: this may make it hard to sleep tonight) and Benadryl (me: this may just fix the steroid sleep thing).

Then they started the drug.  I was humming along and then I felt this heaviness in my chest and a panicky feeling of dread.  (Mark said that could be adrenaline and he feels the same way when his blood sugar goes way low.). I had about three nurses clamoring around me.  They shut off the IV and checked my oxygen (low) and blood pressure (also low).  They had me breathing oxygen through a tube in seconds and gave me saline in the IV and everything eventually calmed down.  

I learned something.  I was wearing this dark red nail polish and the oxygen sensor things they put on your finger don't work as well with dark nail polish.  I had to have it on sideways.  (I have since removed my nail polish!)

They started me back up eventually at a lower rate.  They crept it up again and I had an even bigger reaction.  This time I had lower back cramping which was my kidneys being unhappy with the situation.  They did all the same things again.

My doctor came and talked to me and said basically that it wasn't going to plan.  They had thought they would get the entire IV bag done yesterday and then do a different drug today (and it would only be for an hour).

He said, "So you'll be here all day again tomorrow."

After a while I started to feel better again and they started the medicine on a slow drip.  

Later, when I was in the bathroom and I saw my reflection.  I was pale.  Adam said he had never seen me so pale.  It was a wild ride.

I'm so grateful for medicine though.  I'm grateful I had my AirPods to help me relax.  I listened to the tail end of the Follow Him podcast and I listened to my playlist of BYU choirs singing hymns.  (I pretend I can hear Emma.)  I did a meditation when I was feeling really panicked and it helped.  I'm grateful Janet suggested bringing headphones as well as mints because the medicine left me an unpleasant taste in my mouth.

I'm grateful for everyone who called/texted to check in on me.  I'm grateful for prayers on my behalf.  I'm grateful for Adam who refilled my ice water cup approximately 70 times.

I'm grateful for Cortney bringing me dinner she and Danielle had prepared.  They carefully had designated which things were gluten free and which were not.  

I feel loved and cared for.  My body feels wacky, like it doesn't know if I'm tired or what, but I did it.  I am 1/12 of the day done (assuming I can ever get that IV bag accomplished today).

The steroids had me awake around 3:45 this morning.  I had sort of expected that so I read and relaxed and didn't worry about it.  Besides, I had gone to bed early.  

I am ready for another day in the chair.  I've already learned some things that will help.  I can do this!

Chemo, day 1

 Nobody wants to need chemo.  I start today.

I am intimidated and kind of dreading it and I will be glad when it is over.

I decided to challenge myself to see if I could think of 10 positive things about the experience:

1- I am finally starting my treatment!  This is what I need to feel better and to heal.

2- I get to sit down the entire day.  (Which I usually hate, but yesterday I felt sick and kind of dizzy at times and sitting down seems like a good idea.)

3- I have things to keep me occupied.  I have books to read and my cross-stitch and an audio book and the Follow Him podcast and music to listen to.  My bag is packed and I really have a wealth of activities.

4- After this I will have a better idea of what to expect:  knowledge is power.

5- I have seen over and over the goodness of people.  Last night my ministering sister and friend, Molly, dropped off a care package including a cozy red hoodie.  She already crocheted a beautiful red blanket for me.  (She texted Adam to ask him my favorite color.). Molly is preparing to donate a kidney next week because a man in our ward needs one.  If I could be more like Molly, I would be very happy.

6- I have a really great sub who I trust completely.  And my students like her too.

7- Some of my students hugged me good-bye yesterday.  And one of my favorites from last year sought me out and hugged me too.  She doesn't know I needed her hug, but I did.

8- My doctor's office is minutes from our house.  What a gift!

9- Speaking of gifts, I am grateful for the prayers of people who love me.  I couldn't ask for more.

10- I get to spend the entire day with Adam.  (It could be up to 8 hours.)  I'm grateful for Adam.  And more than just time with him.  He is exactly who I need.  Always.  I didn't know when I married him that he would be really good at having a wife with cancer, but here we are.

Cheered up

I was a little grumpy when I wrote my last post.  What followed was a day of being cheered up.  Children will do that to you.

Several of my girls hugged me when I opened the door yesterday morning.  I was happy to see all of them too.  We missed each other.

One student's mother had made a hat for Sam.  He is our sloth light that flashes through different colors and we "breathe with Sam" sometimes when we need to calm down after recess.

And now Sam has a candy corn hat.  He seems happy about it.

 A few weeks ago we read about voting.  The story we read talked about how a lot of people don't vote and why it was important to vote.  I tried to convince them and I could tell that some of them weren't convinced.  I got my ballot in the mail and I took it to school to show them.

They were so excited.  "Open it!" they said.

I put it under the document camera and I showed them the two choices I had for school board.  I told them how the school board impacts our school.  Then I showed them my choices for mayor and city council.  One of the mayoral candidates is a woman and some of the girls were simultaneously shocked and pleased by that. 

They were thrilled by the entire thing.  They wanted to know who I am voting for.  I wouldn't tell them anyway, but I told them that I was going to read about the candidates and see who I agreed with the most.  I loved seeing their excitement.  They wondered what else was in the envelope and I showed them the envelope I can use to either mail it or drop it off.  They wanted to hear all about the process.

Shortly before lunch, one of my girls came up to me in something of a panic.  "I think I left my glasses in computer class because they are not on my face!"  I loved her deductive reasoning.  Not on my face = somewhere else.  I told her she could go and check.

The computer teacher is the most laid back teacher at the school, but my girl came back and timidly said, "There was a class in there and I didn't want to interrupt."  I told her that I would go get her glasses after I dropped them off at lunch.  

When I went to the computer room, I saw that the class she didn't want to interrupt were 6th graders.  Then I understood why she was intimidated.  I used to teach some of them and they still seem like little kids to me, but to a third grader, sixth graders are scary.

When my class got back from lunch, my student threw her arms around my waist when she saw her glasses sitting on her desk.

We are increasingly like a family.  It is maybe my favorite thing about teaching.  I'm grumpy sometimes and they're naughty sometimes, but Sam got a new hat and I waded into a scary class of 6th graders for lost glasses.

We love each other.

Speaking of love, the Ivies, friends in our ward, stopped by with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a card for me.  They are thinking of me and praying for me this week.

It's hard to not be cheered up.

Not yet as Job

Yesterday we had meetings at school and it is hard to sit in a chair all day.

On the other hand, I felt sick and had a lot of fatigue and sitting in a chair was probably preferable.

I went home and slept for about 45 minutes and then poked around, unpacking and going through the mail and generally trying to get things in hand.

We had YEN.

I didn't and also did want to go.

I really wanted to just climb under the covers and stay there indefinitely.  On the other hand, my friends matter to me.  YEN matters to me.  And Adam wanted to go and he matters to me.

Courage was mustered and I went.  It was a murder mystery party and I kind of hate murder mystery parties, but good news!  I had to only be an observer.  Some advantages to having cancer!  Also, it was kind of delightful that everyone had to pull out reading glasses or share reading glasses to read their parts.

We're getting older all the time.  

Adam and I left early because I was not feeling great.  We came home and suffered through the end of the Mariners game.  Poor Adam.  He gets disappointed every year.  But also every year he gets hopeful and I love that about him.

My heart is heavy and feels tender, mostly thinking about extended family grief.  Remember thy suffering saints, O our God.  I am also sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Last night all the lymphoma symptoms came over to play.  I had a terrible stomach ache and night sweats and awful foot cramps.  I had a hard time sleeping and that amped up my anxiety.

I am a lot of fun.

I feel at once very cognizant of suffering and all the negative side effects of mortality and a soaring gratitude for the plan of salvation and the love of my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.

Very often the Come Follow Me reading for the week is exactly suited to my needs..

Peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment.

Know thou...that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.

Hold on thy way. 

And I read this:

Thy friends do stand by thee.

This was my text exchange with Stephanie about YEN.  We were supposed to text with what we were bringing for the meal.

My friends stand by me and fill me every day with a deep desire to be a better friend.

Fall break weekend

 We had a nice vacation!

On Thursday Mark and Adam and I flew to Sacramento from Salt Lake City.  Adam and Mark are incredibly kind and attentive to me.  They insisted on carrying my bag and giving me every consideration.

I am very lucky to have those guys.

We were thrilled to see Braeden and Anna and QE.  Braeden and Anna are good parents and it is gratifying to watch them in action.  We were walking along in the park one day, Anna and QE were hand in hand and she looked up at her mom and asked sweetly, "Mom, will you tell me the story of Joseph Smith and the First Vision?"

I mean....

QE is a delightful endorphin rush no one can be uncheered by.  We played with blocks and Legos and went on walks and visited parks and took her to Target on a shopping trip.  I read her stories and told her stories.

On Thursday we mistakenly showed up without snacks!  She wanted a snack from Nana, not a snack from her kitchen so we went to Walmart on the way to their house on Friday.  I got some Nana snacks.

It had been a rookie mistake.

Braeden and Anna hosted a dinner for some of Braeden's friends in his program and it was nice to meet them.  They raved about Braeden to us (they knew their audience:  the parents) and plied Mark for embarrassing stories about Braeden.

One thing that marred our trip was tragic news about one of my dear cousin's family.  Life can just be really really hard.  I wished I could be there, although I don't know what I would be able to do besides cry together and hug people.  At the same time as of all the tragedy, I was struck by the ways the Gospel of Jesus Christ lifted burdens. Hearing about the way my cousin and her husband are responding with Christlike love is a stunning example to me.  They are covenant keepers and that not only blesses them but it also blesses everyone around them.

I am happy we could take our trip.  Life is precious and family is precious.  I am happy to be back for school and life here.  I have my first chemo this week.  I am nervous, but also grateful for treatment.  

And I'm ever grateful for the love and support I encounter.  Adam and our boys gave me a priesthood blessing before we left California, my ministering sisters check in frequently with texts and offers for help.  I came home to a package of shirts that are perfect for chemo from Geri and Whitney.  I'm loved and I know it and I don't take that lightly.

Third grade

I feel like I am entering the good times at school when my class and I know each other and the class has kind of a personality and we have fun routines and traditions that bond us.

For example, we all say, "Quick sticks" to each other when we need to hurry.  (I heard it on an Australian TV show and I liked it.  They like it too.)

A young man who is a leader of Boys and Girls club works in classrooms sometimes.  He was in my room and I had students at my desk, but I couldn't resist snapping this picture of him reading to these boys.  He would explain things they didn't understand in Spanish and they were enthralled. Later he had them take turns reading and it was magical.  These are not sit still and listen to a story kind of boys.

After recess we moved desks and they cleaned out their desks and it was an enormous mess with scraps of paper and random pencils and erasers everywhere.  I said for every 10 pieces of something they picked up off the floor, I would give them a skittle.

You never saw a floor get cleaned so fast.

I'm reading The World According to Humphrey to them.  They love it and I love reading to them.

One of my students points to the healing wound on my neck (from my port) every day and asks me if it still hurts.  I tell her, "It is getting better every day."

Another girl randomly came up to me and said, "I want to give you a hug."  That happens a few times a week and I always welcome a hug.

It feels like it's going pretty well, but not perfectly.

Third graders will criticize me if I don't write neatly on the board until I erase it and try again.

I promise my worst writing is better than 95% of theirs.

Columbus and cumulonimbus

 When I was growing up, Columbus was just part of the body of knowledge that every elementary student had.

It became problematic--Columbus Day became Indigenous People Day.  I don't want to get into the politics of it, but I think that it is important information for people to know, whether or not he was a good guy.

(And I never met him so I don't have an opinion on that one.)

One of my students brought it up.  She was wondering what it was because her mom is a student and she didn't have school yesterday and my student was wondering why.  She is an English learner so it took me awhile to understand her question, but I finally go there.

I asked if anyone had heard of Columbus and none of them had.

I got the globe and I said, "OK, I have a story for you."

They wiggled happily on their spots on the kiva and one of them said, "I love stories!"

I told them about how some people thought the world was flat. That floored them.  

One student reasoned, "Well, it is hard to tell if you just have a flat map and not a globe."

One boy got fixated on the idea of falling off the earth.  "But could you ever fall off the earth?"  I said no.

A girl said, "Because of gravity!"

He was still worried, "What about the moon, could you fall off that?"

No.

"Could you fall off any planet?"  It was like he was planning to travel and wondered if he would be safe.

I showed them India on the map and talked about why people wanted to get there and why it was hard to get there.

"That's far away!" one of them said.  

"And you couldn't take a plane, because they weren't invented," another said.

I told them Columbus thought he could cross the ocean to get to India.  He got the Spanish king and queen to back him to try to get there because he didn't think the world was flat.  (One student, from Argentina, was thrilled because his grandpa lives in Spain.)

We talked about where Columbus landed and since he thought he was in India, what do you think he called the people?

Indians!  Everything was coming together for them.

I said, "Now we have Columbus, Ohio and The District of Columbia and Columbia, South Carolina and the country Colombia and they are all named after Columbus."

One of my students stood up and said solemnly, "Teacher, this is where I am from."

"Yes," I said.  "I know."

"I was born in Colombia," he proudly said.  I told him that was great.

They were buzzing with excitement of their newfound knowledge.

During science I told them that they would learn how to predict if it was going to rain by the clouds.  They leaned in closer.  We learned about cumulus and cumulonimbus and stratus and stratonimbus clouds.  They drew them in a little book and we talked all about the differences and what kinds of storms they cause.  I showed them impressive pictures of cumulonimbus clouds and had them turn and tell someone about a big storm they'd been in.

(Ask me how I know not to have them tell the entire class about the biggest storm they'd been in.  It gets out of hand and no one has time to listen to 26 children retell in minute detail their storm because they all want to and then some of them remember another storm.)

I told them we were going to go on the world's shortest field trip.  We went outside and they looked at the clouds and discussed and debated what kinds of clouds they saw.

I love being a teacher.

Weekend

 I took an hour nap when I got home from school on Friday.  Adam came home from the airport and changed into a suit and I headed out with him. We went to the Provo City Center temple.  We met some youth from our ward.  I felt pretty awful, but I was happy to be in the temple with Adam.  I even did some confirmations.  

Friday night the Mariners slugged it out against the Tigers to advance in the playoffs.  "The Battle in Seattle" as Rick Rizz, the Mariners announcer, called the game.  I think I went to bed around the 11th inning.  They played to 15 innings.  Adam was texting with his family throughout.  Both Braeden and Mark had to stop watching in the 14th inning.  Braeden said he didn't want to have a heart attack.  Mark got his computer and kept listening, but distracted himself with a video game.  They couldn't take the pressure.

Adam bravely watched to the end and the Mariners won!  I had to hear about it Saturday.  (I am weak sauce.)

Adam got up early to go to the Deseret Peaks temple with the youth, but I didn't go with him.  I felt sad about it, but I decided I should rest.  

I had been looking forward to the hour plus each way drive with Adam, especially since he's been gone so much.  I love going on drives with him.

Instead I slept in.  I did a meditation in the cancer course on Headspace after I got up.  He talked about feeling sad.  He said pretty much everyone who has cancer feels sad sometimes.  He said not to marinade in it or enlarge it, but to let it pass.

So I tried.

I got ready to lead the singing in primary and paid the bills (except the doctor bills--I put them in a pile and hand them over to Adam).  The hospital bills stress me out and Adam just takes them from me like the champion that he is.

After Adam returned from the temple and Mark returned from cleaning the church with some of his ward members, we did our errands.

One of the errands was Walgreens for flu and covid shots.  I had ended up getting a prescription for a covid shot because they were unavailable everywhere.  (I want to credit Elder Stevenson for stopping me from saying something snarky right here.  I'm trying to be a peacemaker.)  I had my prescription and was picking up 5 chemo related prescriptions and was willing to show my port if necessary to get the shots before I start chemo.  (When I had looked earlier, cancer was one of the eligibility requirements.)

But they ended up having them for average people off the street!  (I read that Utah had released more availability lately.)  So Adam and Mark got shots too.  

They asked me if I'd felt sick in the past two weeks....

Um.

I explained about cancer and feeling sick almost always and apparently that was OK, because I got my shots. 

Sunday was a good day.  A piece of my heart was in Elko.  The temple was dedicated there and I thought about it all day.  I thought a lot about both sets of my grandparents who lived and served there.  I hope they were either in attendance or watching on a big screen in heaven--I don't know how these things work....

I led the singing in primary and I enjoyed that.  Family Search sent me an email that threw down the gauntlet.  There was a problem with my 4th great grandmother, Hannah Nash's, first cousin Sarah.  She was born after her mother's child bearing years.

Family Search labeled the problem "advanced."

Hold my Swig!  (Utah County version of hold my beer.  I didn't actually have a Swig but it would have helped because I napped for about an hour.)

I figured it out, but haven't found a way to fully prove it yet. (Maybe if I hadn't napped.)

Adam came home and Emma came over and we played Pass the Pigs and cooked dinner together.  After dinner we played Parcheesi and listened to the recording of the talk Adam gave in sacrament meeting.

So I cried again.  He did a good job.

We also sat around in the family room and listened to most of the Mariner's game.  I am a fan by marriage, nowhere near the fan Adam or our boys are, but I was pretty invested and Emma became invested too.  She stayed later than she usually does on a Sunday. We went upstairs to watch the 9th inning on TV.  I mostly enjoyed watching Adam.  He was standing next to the TV with a look of joy on his face.  It was fun to watch it together.  

I'm wearing a Mariners shirt to school today to celebrate.  Probably everyone in Seattle is wearing Mariners shirts too.  

Solidarity.

I felt happier on Sunday than I had in a long time.  I think it was because I was able to do my small service, I was nourished spiritually by church, I am better at accepting peoples' love and concern at church, I had a good time with our family.

Aaaaaaand.  We're going to California later this week.  It is so nice to have something to look forward to.

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.