My body woke me up at 5:45 this morning and said "Let's go to school!"
Dear body.. that's no for us. Not today anyway. "We could go visit..."
You know, I've thought about that. Yesterday it was a no because I really needed to catch up on some work. Today it's a maybe, but also I'm scared.
You see, I hate staying home. Hate it. I can say it's because all my friends are going to school, I miss my kids, and it's no fun planning for classes you don't get to teach. I can say it's about feeling ready, being ready, and hating waiting. There's lots of reasons I hate staying home.
But then what is the reason I am terrified of going to school, even to visit? Why am I nervous about going back? Why did I get butterflies when I subbed for an hour in my friend's class last week?
Maybe it comes down to this. All the reasons are effects of this one big cause.
When I don't go to school, I question what my life means. I question my value. I question who I am. And I can say that that's because I'm not doing what I love and then I can blame all those feelings on the fact that I'm waiting on a doctor's note that I have digitally but need on paper.
And the fear comes in because secretly I know that even when I am there, doing what I love, I'll still be questioning my value and who I am. And although I know that work can't and won't give me meaning... it's easy to pretend when work seems just as impossible as the peace.
My body woke me up at 5:45 this morning.
I miss school.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Great Expectations
I wonder if I should blog.
To be honest, I'm in a grumpy sort of mood. I was ok most of the day, looking at teaching ideas online, writing study guides, thinking about all the things I'd like my kids to learn next week.
I sent an e-mail to a superintendent who asked me about being considered for a job in the States. And I thought about all the lessons I looked at online. And I thought about what I'd like my kids to learn next week.
And I thought about the sub plans I'm actually writing for them, and how I can't write the things I want to write because I'm not there. And I thought of how the plans I actually write and the things I actually teach so rarely meet my own expectations, much less someone else's.
And I thought about what I would say if I were applying for jobs in the States right now... what proof I have that I'm worth hiring. And I looked at my crappy sub plans and the content that I'm trying to teach vicariously, and I hated it. And I a little bit hated me.
And I know that as a general rule, I am my own worst critic. This is a problem that I'm pretty sure a lot of us struggle with. But I just got so frustrated that I'm not there trying to get better, that I can't motivate myself to write more detailed, explicative plans, that I'm to some extend just trying to keep my kids busy and my sub from going insane.
And I'm frustrated that I feel fine and I can't go to school, and that I feel like people are jealous and would love to get to stay home and get to sleep in and get to take time off.
And again, I wonder if I should blog.
Tonight my housemate was speaking to our community at worship night about being honest with God and yourself, and how the honesty even when it means you admit to not living up to expectations opens up communication and perhaps even allows more change to happen. Even if it means you admit to being weak. Because, in general, compared to God, you just are and that's to be expected.
So honesty. And vulnerability. And weakness. Not meeting expectations.
I'm human.
I wasn't going to blog, you know. I had closed out of the window. Until I went back because I was curious thinking about two weeks after my last surgery. And it was nice to track where I've been. High entry. Low entry. High Entry. Low entry.
Because if I only wrote on good days, or pretended that every day was good... days like these would hurt all the worse. But if they're normal and just happen sometimes... maybe it doesn't mean I'm failing at life or not meeting my strength/happiness expectations.
To be honest, I'm in a grumpy sort of mood. I was ok most of the day, looking at teaching ideas online, writing study guides, thinking about all the things I'd like my kids to learn next week.
I sent an e-mail to a superintendent who asked me about being considered for a job in the States. And I thought about all the lessons I looked at online. And I thought about what I'd like my kids to learn next week.
And I thought about the sub plans I'm actually writing for them, and how I can't write the things I want to write because I'm not there. And I thought of how the plans I actually write and the things I actually teach so rarely meet my own expectations, much less someone else's.
And I thought about what I would say if I were applying for jobs in the States right now... what proof I have that I'm worth hiring. And I looked at my crappy sub plans and the content that I'm trying to teach vicariously, and I hated it. And I a little bit hated me.
And I know that as a general rule, I am my own worst critic. This is a problem that I'm pretty sure a lot of us struggle with. But I just got so frustrated that I'm not there trying to get better, that I can't motivate myself to write more detailed, explicative plans, that I'm to some extend just trying to keep my kids busy and my sub from going insane.
And I'm frustrated that I feel fine and I can't go to school, and that I feel like people are jealous and would love to get to stay home and get to sleep in and get to take time off.
And again, I wonder if I should blog.
Tonight my housemate was speaking to our community at worship night about being honest with God and yourself, and how the honesty even when it means you admit to not living up to expectations opens up communication and perhaps even allows more change to happen. Even if it means you admit to being weak. Because, in general, compared to God, you just are and that's to be expected.
So honesty. And vulnerability. And weakness. Not meeting expectations.
I'm human.
I wasn't going to blog, you know. I had closed out of the window. Until I went back because I was curious thinking about two weeks after my last surgery. And it was nice to track where I've been. High entry. Low entry. High Entry. Low entry.
Because if I only wrote on good days, or pretended that every day was good... days like these would hurt all the worse. But if they're normal and just happen sometimes... maybe it doesn't mean I'm failing at life or not meeting my strength/happiness expectations.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
I was walking home from a dear friend's house today when it hit me.
I felt normal and alive and fine. Now, I've been feeling alive most days of most of my life. And normal is relative, and days when I feel normal are probably in the minority.
Still. I have had surgery twice. I had cancer and now it's gone. My scar is looking MUCH better (and less like a football) than last time.
And the end is (maybe) in sight.
And it was sunny and warm and lovely, and I felt lovely.
I miss teaching.
But today was still a good day.
I felt normal and alive and fine. Now, I've been feeling alive most days of most of my life. And normal is relative, and days when I feel normal are probably in the minority.
Still. I have had surgery twice. I had cancer and now it's gone. My scar is looking MUCH better (and less like a football) than last time.
And the end is (maybe) in sight.
And it was sunny and warm and lovely, and I felt lovely.
I miss teaching.
But today was still a good day.
Monday, February 18, 2013
I'm rusty at this
The thought of writing a non-cancerous blog thrills and excites me. Just saying.
Yet, as I stare at the blank screen, it feels a tiny bit like I have forgotten how to write about other things. What has happened today? Is there anything worth writing about? I'm clearly rusty at this.
Speaking of being rusty... today our lovely cleaning lady came. Yes, there is a woman who comes to clean my house once a week. I think that maybe the school doesn't trust us to clean out toilets and mop our floors regularly. And, as my bed usually isn't even made any day of the week but today, they're probably right.
Her son came with her today because he wasn't feeling well. Side note, he was adorable and he played with my dog and it really made me consider adopting a child. But also I think the dog is too much work, so probably that's a bad idea.
Anyway, she was in a hurry because he was with her, so I told her I would do the sink-full of dishes in the kitchen.
Now, I was pretty sure that these weren't my dishes and was pretty embarrassed that one of my housemates would be rude enough to leave a pile of dishes that large for the cleaning lady to wash. Indignantly, I began scrubbing the one dish that I knew was mine because I had used it 5 minutes earlier.
And then the cookie sheet that I thought I had maybe cleaned, but hadn't really because it was clearly still from when I made cookies on Saturday night.
And then my bowl from Sunday morning.
And the spatula from the cookies.
And the Tupperware that had clearly held my leftover Valentine's Pot Pie... consumed by me... Saturday night.
Starting to see a trend? I certainly did. There were maybe 3 dishes that weren't mine. Embarrassing.
And the worst part was how thankful she was that I had taken the time to help her by cleaning up my own mess.
It's funny, because so many time sin youth group we have talked about being Jesus to others and being servants, and one of the ways that the girls have brought up is cleaning up your room before the maid comes. It always seems like an obvious thing to me, but I smile and nod and affirm.
I have a long ways to go.
Yet, as I stare at the blank screen, it feels a tiny bit like I have forgotten how to write about other things. What has happened today? Is there anything worth writing about? I'm clearly rusty at this.
Speaking of being rusty... today our lovely cleaning lady came. Yes, there is a woman who comes to clean my house once a week. I think that maybe the school doesn't trust us to clean out toilets and mop our floors regularly. And, as my bed usually isn't even made any day of the week but today, they're probably right.
Her son came with her today because he wasn't feeling well. Side note, he was adorable and he played with my dog and it really made me consider adopting a child. But also I think the dog is too much work, so probably that's a bad idea.
Anyway, she was in a hurry because he was with her, so I told her I would do the sink-full of dishes in the kitchen.
Now, I was pretty sure that these weren't my dishes and was pretty embarrassed that one of my housemates would be rude enough to leave a pile of dishes that large for the cleaning lady to wash. Indignantly, I began scrubbing the one dish that I knew was mine because I had used it 5 minutes earlier.
And then the cookie sheet that I thought I had maybe cleaned, but hadn't really because it was clearly still from when I made cookies on Saturday night.
And then my bowl from Sunday morning.
And the spatula from the cookies.
And the Tupperware that had clearly held my leftover Valentine's Pot Pie... consumed by me... Saturday night.
Starting to see a trend? I certainly did. There were maybe 3 dishes that weren't mine. Embarrassing.
And the worst part was how thankful she was that I had taken the time to help her by cleaning up my own mess.
It's funny, because so many time sin youth group we have talked about being Jesus to others and being servants, and one of the ways that the girls have brought up is cleaning up your room before the maid comes. It always seems like an obvious thing to me, but I smile and nod and affirm.
I have a long ways to go.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Blessings and wonderings from an imperfect, flawed, and sore kind of human
Dear Friends, Family, and Others
Initially, I am writing to inform you that I am home safe and sound and a little sore. I also wanted to inform you that reports are showing that my body is rid of cancer. So now my only excuse for being grumpy, weird, or anything else is that I'm still sore from surgery.
As many have said (and I agree with them): God is good. This outcome certainly is a blessing. But I also have to acknowledge that God isn't good because I no longer have cancer. God is good because God is good.
One thing that I have really wrestled with throughout this process is how to approach God when things in MY life don't look good. Why does a God who is good let bad things happen? Can you still say he's good when it doesn't feel good?
Four months ago, I would have said God is good. My selfish, personal reasoning would have been he is good and this is shown through the family and friends he's put in my life. He is good and it's shown through the students that he's given me and it's shown through waterfalls and sunsets and all the good things. He's good because I see it in my circumstances.
Today... God is good. He's good because he doesn't change. He's good because he's age to age the same. He's good because he's stable and a refuge and constant and powerful and just. He's good because that's who he is. No guesswork. Not dependent on me or any other human or how our point-of-view at that particular moment or even on the state of the whole world. He's good regardless.
Maybe I already KNEW this... should have already been feeling this. Maybe. But putting what I should have known aside, I feel like it's something that God has been revealing through this process. And I feel that this development in our relationship is just as much and probably more of a blessing than being my home or not having cancer, and because of this, although I may not have worded it as eloquently as I would have liked, it's something I felt I should share. God is good.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still struggling through why the past three-ish months have happened. I'm struggling even today with how to approach a good God when it feels like I'm being kept from doing what I love. Do I feel happy? No. To my human mind, it's still frustrating. I'm frustrated with staying home and not teaching and walking like a grandma. But that doesn't change God. He's still good.
So no, I don't know all his reasons, and I don't plan to figure them all out (although it'd be nice, wouldn't it?). Maybe more will be revealed as life goes on... maybe not. But God is good.
Initially, I am writing to inform you that I am home safe and sound and a little sore. I also wanted to inform you that reports are showing that my body is rid of cancer. So now my only excuse for being grumpy, weird, or anything else is that I'm still sore from surgery.
As many have said (and I agree with them): God is good. This outcome certainly is a blessing. But I also have to acknowledge that God isn't good because I no longer have cancer. God is good because God is good.
One thing that I have really wrestled with throughout this process is how to approach God when things in MY life don't look good. Why does a God who is good let bad things happen? Can you still say he's good when it doesn't feel good?
Four months ago, I would have said God is good. My selfish, personal reasoning would have been he is good and this is shown through the family and friends he's put in my life. He is good and it's shown through the students that he's given me and it's shown through waterfalls and sunsets and all the good things. He's good because I see it in my circumstances.
Today... God is good. He's good because he doesn't change. He's good because he's age to age the same. He's good because he's stable and a refuge and constant and powerful and just. He's good because that's who he is. No guesswork. Not dependent on me or any other human or how our point-of-view at that particular moment or even on the state of the whole world. He's good regardless.
Maybe I already KNEW this... should have already been feeling this. Maybe. But putting what I should have known aside, I feel like it's something that God has been revealing through this process. And I feel that this development in our relationship is just as much and probably more of a blessing than being my home or not having cancer, and because of this, although I may not have worded it as eloquently as I would have liked, it's something I felt I should share. God is good.
Don't get me wrong, I'm still struggling through why the past three-ish months have happened. I'm struggling even today with how to approach a good God when it feels like I'm being kept from doing what I love. Do I feel happy? No. To my human mind, it's still frustrating. I'm frustrated with staying home and not teaching and walking like a grandma. But that doesn't change God. He's still good.
So no, I don't know all his reasons, and I don't plan to figure them all out (although it'd be nice, wouldn't it?). Maybe more will be revealed as life goes on... maybe not. But God is good.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Newsflash in a non-witty style
Ok. The real update you've been waiting for.
As most of you know, I had surgery on Thursday, which I figure is 3 and a half day ago (don't trust my mental capabilities right now-as an example, I just wrote write instead of right). I've been chilling in the hospital with my parents, who have been so great to have around, even though they get to see me in my boring, mopy times more than anyone else does. But they don't complain much, which is appreciated.
All in all, I'm pretty tired and I walk pretty slowly, but everything is progressing and I'll get to eat solid foods tomorrow morning (TOAST!). I'm also scheduled to go home tomorrow afternoon, although I'm not 100% how that will look... I'm guessing it'll be a bit later.
I'm thankful for all the visits and prayers and notes and meals and the people who have taken my parents out and for my wonderful roommates who drive back and forth and take care of everything and for my fabulous friends who make time in their crazy busy lives to be here on a regular basis and make me feel normal even though I'm really not right now.
And I'm thankful for all the messages and e-mails as well! They make me smile each time I read them, and I will definitely be responding in the next few weeks! I'm sorry for the lack of update for the past few days. I've been a bit anti-computer, especially with an IV right on the top of my hand. I'm getting better at this typing thing though.
Anyway, thank you again for all your support (and your patience with me during the last few days!)
The end is in sight! What a crazy last few months it has been.
Gah. Just thinking about it makes me tired.
As most of you know, I had surgery on Thursday, which I figure is 3 and a half day ago (don't trust my mental capabilities right now-as an example, I just wrote write instead of right). I've been chilling in the hospital with my parents, who have been so great to have around, even though they get to see me in my boring, mopy times more than anyone else does. But they don't complain much, which is appreciated.
All in all, I'm pretty tired and I walk pretty slowly, but everything is progressing and I'll get to eat solid foods tomorrow morning (TOAST!). I'm also scheduled to go home tomorrow afternoon, although I'm not 100% how that will look... I'm guessing it'll be a bit later.
I'm thankful for all the visits and prayers and notes and meals and the people who have taken my parents out and for my wonderful roommates who drive back and forth and take care of everything and for my fabulous friends who make time in their crazy busy lives to be here on a regular basis and make me feel normal even though I'm really not right now.
And I'm thankful for all the messages and e-mails as well! They make me smile each time I read them, and I will definitely be responding in the next few weeks! I'm sorry for the lack of update for the past few days. I've been a bit anti-computer, especially with an IV right on the top of my hand. I'm getting better at this typing thing though.
Anyway, thank you again for all your support (and your patience with me during the last few days!)
The end is in sight! What a crazy last few months it has been.
Gah. Just thinking about it makes me tired.
Waiting
Once again I type from a hospital bed. I am again short an indefinite amount of intestines. I am again celebrating things like walking all the way to the bathroom by myself and being able to eat and drink clear liquids.
On one hand, it's hard to believe that so much has happened (again). I had surgery, I'm into the recovery period, and I'm looking at going home in the next few days.
On the other hand, it feels like I've already done this all, and that this is just the beginning of another long process. My body protests most of it's normal movements. My hand is swollen because it hates ivs, and the other looks more like a robot hand than my own. Sub planning sounds like the absolute last thing I want to do, and I'm bored with being confined to a bed.
I think the second part is hitting me harder this time, because I just know.
But I suppose I also know that it does and will get better. I can't see the end of this yet, but it's there. I just have to keep patiently waiting.
I'm better at that some days than others. I'd like to be normal.
I guess this is when I defer to the God whose plans are bigger than my plans and whose ways are greater than my ways.
On one hand, it's hard to believe that so much has happened (again). I had surgery, I'm into the recovery period, and I'm looking at going home in the next few days.
On the other hand, it feels like I've already done this all, and that this is just the beginning of another long process. My body protests most of it's normal movements. My hand is swollen because it hates ivs, and the other looks more like a robot hand than my own. Sub planning sounds like the absolute last thing I want to do, and I'm bored with being confined to a bed.
I think the second part is hitting me harder this time, because I just know.
But I suppose I also know that it does and will get better. I can't see the end of this yet, but it's there. I just have to keep patiently waiting.
I'm better at that some days than others. I'd like to be normal.
I guess this is when I defer to the God whose plans are bigger than my plans and whose ways are greater than my ways.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
You are not alone in this
I met with my doctor today, and I have to go to the hospital tomorrow morning. My surgery will be in the afternoon on Thursday.
I don't want to go to the hospital. I don't want to be cut open. I don't want to heal.
I want to be healthy and ready to go to school tomorrow. I want to take my parents to fun places and hang out and not go to the hospital.
I don't want to be there for 5 days. I don't want to leave with a bandage on my stomach. I don't want to wake up at night and take pills. I don't want to miss school. I want to be normal.
Tonight, after a day where I was able to show my parents around a bit and feel self-sufficient as I was able to use public transportation and my mediocre Spanish to get everywhere I wanted to go and enjoy the joys of being alive and healthy and free, I am really struggling with the idea of being confined in the hospital. I'm struggling with the idea of being helpless in bed, attached to ivs and having a little intestine purse.
So I've spent some time crying. Because I am sad. And I've vented at my parents and to some really great, supportive friends both here and at home. After one of my roommates went to bed, my Dad turns to me and says "you don't find friends like that everyday."
And it made me think of Mulan... "you don't find a girl like that every dynasty." It's pretty much the same.
And, although I am sad, and although I'm not looking forward to all the things I know are waiting for me in the next week, I am thankful for the friends and family that I'm so blessed to have. It's true. You don't find friends like this everyday. But somehow, probably because God knew I need them, I have been blessed with more than a dynasty's worth of love and support.
Monday, February 4, 2013
Matthew 9:13
"Those who are well have no need for a physician, but those who are sick"
Self-sufficiency is a common theme for me. I like to take care of myself, like to avoid weakness, like to pretend I'm good enough (although, what that means, Ido t really know)
I'm attempting to read through the Bible. This year. I'm a little behind, but I'm slowly but surely working my way through Matthew (and Genesis and Psalms).
I came to this verse and thought about how very much I have needed God these past few months. Not that I didn't need him before. But still.
I have cancer. I didn't know I was sick, don't really feel sick. I didn't know I needed anything. But now that I'm aware, it's painstakingly obvious that I can't heal myself. I just can't. There's no easy, quick solution. I have to go through the proceeds and put my life and body into the hands of a doctor who I believe is capable.
I don't often feel weak or sick in other areas of my life. I feel like a pretty good person, whatever. I feel like life is old and I'm coping. I don't need a doctor, I don't need God. After all, a perfectly healthy person doesn't need a general surgeon, right?
Hard times of any kind are not fun. And I won't pretend to have all the answers. Or any answers. It's hard, it doesn't make sense, and life would be so much easier if we weren't all so sick.
But if we didn't go through the hard times that show us or sicknesses and weaknesses and the cancer in our lives... how would we know we need a doctor? How would we know that we need surgery? How could we begin recovery?
I know I needed that fest surgery to expose this disease in my body. Maybe I also need both these surgeries to expose the diseases and dangers of my self-sufficient life.
Self-sufficiency is a common theme for me. I like to take care of myself, like to avoid weakness, like to pretend I'm good enough (although, what that means, Ido t really know)
I'm attempting to read through the Bible. This year. I'm a little behind, but I'm slowly but surely working my way through Matthew (and Genesis and Psalms).
I came to this verse and thought about how very much I have needed God these past few months. Not that I didn't need him before. But still.
I have cancer. I didn't know I was sick, don't really feel sick. I didn't know I needed anything. But now that I'm aware, it's painstakingly obvious that I can't heal myself. I just can't. There's no easy, quick solution. I have to go through the proceeds and put my life and body into the hands of a doctor who I believe is capable.
I don't often feel weak or sick in other areas of my life. I feel like a pretty good person, whatever. I feel like life is old and I'm coping. I don't need a doctor, I don't need God. After all, a perfectly healthy person doesn't need a general surgeon, right?
Hard times of any kind are not fun. And I won't pretend to have all the answers. Or any answers. It's hard, it doesn't make sense, and life would be so much easier if we weren't all so sick.
But if we didn't go through the hard times that show us or sicknesses and weaknesses and the cancer in our lives... how would we know we need a doctor? How would we know that we need surgery? How could we begin recovery?
I know I needed that fest surgery to expose this disease in my body. Maybe I also need both these surgeries to expose the diseases and dangers of my self-sufficient life.
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