Grateful and Gallbladder-less

Have you seen that meme?  The one that says, “Welcome to your 40s! If you don’t yet have a mysterious ailment, one will be assigned to you shortly.”  Well, it’s funny because it feels true. 

This is an account of gratitude regarding my own mysterious ailment.  TL;DR I’m now short one gallbladder and I’m counting my blessings. 

I suffered off and on with a mysterious ailment for several years but my doctors didn’t find the source of my symptoms.  One doctor practically threw the book of lab orders at me, but after testing for (what felt like) everything including lupus, Lyme disease, West Nile virus, H. Pylori, HIV, parasites, and all the “normal” things, the only thing that ever showed up was cytomegalovirus (CMV), and that appeared to be a past infection.  She ruled out IBD and stopped short of diagnosing IBS. 

A few months ago when some symptoms flared up after a long hiatus, my sister told me she thought I had a bad gallbladder. 

I had some symptoms that overlap those for colon cancer.  Since I do have some family history, I decided to go ahead with a colonoscopy and scheduled one with Dr R, who came recommended to me by someone close.  Thank God, it was clear, no polyps, and I can wait five years for the next one.  Dr R said he doesn’t do any surgeries anymore other than colo-rectal, but he would order imaging for my abdomen. 

Immediately I was scheduled for an abdominal ultrasound and a week or so later, Dr R said it does appear that I have gallstones.  The only cure for that is cholecystectomy (removal of the gallbladder).  He was trying to decide which surgeon to refer, so he asked me whether I like girl or boy doctors, and I responded, “Competent ones.”

So he referred me to Dr C, a lovely woman who agreed that with what we do know, it is a good idea to remove the gallbladder, and I should not feel like I have to wait for the next flare up.  She performs these on Thursdays.  There’s never a good time to schedule something like this so I chose the first Thursday that I would have a chance to be off work for a week without conflicting with things I already had on the calendar. 

Yesterday morning I checked in at the hospital.  KR is old enough now that Mike and I left her still sleeping and after I finished registration he went home to help her get off to the school bus. 

Upstairs my pre-op nurse, Anna, was very friendly and I appreciated her openness as she struggled a bit to get my IV started.  She told me if the third time wasn’t a charm she would have someone else try.  The most painful attempt turned out to be the charm.  She joked with me and I was very comfortable considering I had never had surgery before. 

My OR nurse, Jessica, was also friendly and she helped me go to the bathroom just before the surgery.  I had to walk down the hallway in my gown, with my IV in and leg sleeves on.  When I returned successfully we chatted about our work.  She said she likes her job as an OR nurse, but because she has never had surgery herself, her work makes her feel curious about what it feels like to have surgery (not that she necessarily wants to find out, though).  I said I know what she means.  I work for a pension system and my work makes me feel curious about what it feels like to be retired (though I do hope to find out someday)!

Then I met Dr P, my anesthesiologist.  She has a very direct manner but was very thorough, explaining exactly what medicines she would be giving me, when, and why. She answered all of my questions. 

Then my surgeon, Dr C, arrived.  The two doctors were immediately conversing about a personal matter and she quickly clued me in, telling me that the two of them have been best friends for 30 years.  How blessed am I?  Knowing this pair of doctors work so well together, I knew I was in good hands. 

When we got to the OR, I didn’t feel nervous scooching off the bed and onto the table.  Dr P had intended to administer something to relax me before wheeling me into the OR, but for some reason it didn’t happen.  But I wasn’t anxious. 

On the advice of a friend I had called my parish office and received a visit from one of our priests the day before surgery.  He prayed, heard my confession, gave me absolution, communion, and anointed my forehead, and palms and feet in the places where Jesus was nailed to the cross.  I felt so much less anxious after receiving the three sacraments and that peace stayed with me. 

Dr P had said I might feel certain sensations as the medications were starting.  But I really don’t remember anything after getting comfortable on the table.  I never experienced those uncomfortable sensations.  I woke up in recovery. 

My husband was brought in once I was starting to wake up.  I had to try really hard to wake up.  But eventually I did, and Mike helped me dress and got me into the wheelchair. 

We had one problem getting the pharmacy to fill my prescription for pain medicine.  But I left a message for Dr C’s medical assistant and before I knew it, she had called the pharmacy to straighten it out and then called Mike’s phone. 

So I’m home, resting, and grateful for so much it’s boggling to try to list all the reasons.  But I’ll try. 

My husband is a great person, a loving husband and father, who is so generous with his care. He is not afraid to help me with anything I need and I am blessed to have a husband I am not afraid to ask for anything I need. 

I have medical insurance and it is subsidized by my employer.  Yes, it feels like it’s expensive even subsidized.  But, I know we’re lucky to have costs this low.  And this whole experience was covered by my plan, as was my colonoscopy. 

I have access to really good doctors.  And my surgery coordinator, the hospital staff who called me before the surgery and to follow up with me today, and all the staff and nurses I interacted with have been great. 

I am employed, and I have sick leave such that I don’t have to worry about losing income while being off work to recover. 

My child is well and is old enough to mostly get ready for school on her own.  I don’t have to worry about being able to take care of her right now, and she is sweet to understand I need to rest. 

My sister tipped me off on the gallbladder.  Had she not recently experienced this who knows how long it would have taken for me to get to the point I’m at today.  My grandma waited until her senior days before finally having hers out. 

My colonoscopy was clear.  What a relief to know this. 

I know many people who have prayed for me.  I appreciate them so much, and I definitely feel the result of their care for me.  As I continue to heal, I pray for the strength to offer all of my pain to Jesus, to unite it with him on the cross for grace to be poured out on others. 

There must be more reasons for my gratitude that I have left out.  I hope to be able to remember them all, and bring them to mind whenever I think I have cause for complaint. 

Perspectives on #RedforEd

As the statewide teacher Walk Out draws nearer, I find myself hearing, feeling, and imagining ever more perspectives.  As a parent of an elementary school student, this situation affects me in multiple ways.  But I recognize my good fortune.  As inconvenient and disruptive this situation is, I am confident my family will get through it generally none the worse for wear.

My pointless story is not about taking sides or making a political statement.  But I have considered the following perspectives with varying degrees of sympathy and empathy.  My conclusion: no one in Arizona is completely unscathed by this situation, and the effects do indeed reach beyond our state but I would be here all day if I don't draw a line and just consider the effects within our state border.  In fact, I'm not even going to write out all of the perspectives I see that are within AZ because of the time it would take.

The spotlight (which can be both illuminating and scorching) is on our public school teachers.  I'm a product of public schools (for the most part, having attended 1st and 2nd grade at a parochial school in Houston, TX).  I've been taught by public school teachers in Houston, Metropolitan Cincinnati, and Metropolitan Atlanta.  The teachers I know in Arizona are those that are my friends and peers, and those who have taught my daughter in elementary school. 

When I look back at my K-12 experience I remember specific teachers for varying reasons.   Of course there is variance among their performance, as there is among employees within any industry.  But what is clear to me is that on the whole, teachers are human, they want their students to learn and succeed, and great teaching is an art form.

My 3rd grade teacher sure had my number.  It was as if she had a window into my brain.  While I was scheming (probably looking for a way to skimp on the work), she knew it.  She would call me out on it and redirect me in ways that were gentle but firm.  I was a very sensitive kid and she never trod on my spirit, but helped me find ways to excel.  I remember doing a research project on George Washington Carver and putting on a peanut butter taste test in class.  I remember doing (seemingly endless) work learning about the history of the great state of Texas and drawing flags for Texas, Mexico, etc. and singing "Deep in the Heart of Texas" in class.  I remember winning the grand prize in our class when she organized a Jeopardy! tournament (and in true packrat form, I kept the plastic trophy for 30 years), and I remember her beaming smile as she congratulated me.  And I remember she gave me a book she thought I would like, Caddie Woodlawn, as a gift because she knew I was moving to Ohio before starting 4th grade.

In 4th grade, in a new state, I found it hard to fit in.  I was an overweight kid and I was short, so I was horrified when I discovered I weighed 100 lbs.  My teacher seemed overweight too, so I felt comfortable talking to her about it.  I confided to my teacher that I was starting a diet to lose weight.  Looking back I know she didn't know how to help me but she listened and she was concerned for me.  It was the mid-80s and we didn't know as much as we do now about food and health.  She knew I loved to read and she lent me a novel that (although I can't recall the title) I read and loved.  I was excited because it was a "grown up" book, probably 400 pages long, and well above the 4th grade reading level.

In the first two years of middle school, I remember three teachers.  Two were my math teachers: the first one spoke to us with enthusiasm and smiled when he taught.  It was contagious and to this day I love how easy it is to convert units within the metric system because of the way he taught it to us.  The second decided to try an experiment that year: teaching us without issuing us textbooks.  I was intimidated by him because he was not smiling and friendly like the first one - he always seemed serious and I couldn't tell if he was smiling under his mustache, but I doubted he ever did.  His experiment failed me and I ended up with my first (and only) D on a report card.  My mom and I had a meeting with him and he tutored me after that so I could bring up my grade.  It surprised me that he didn't realize I was intimidated by him, and when we met with him I realized he was human and he did care.  All I saw before that was gruff Mr. Mustache.  When we moved to Georgia that summer, my new school refused to place me in pre-algebra for 8th grade because of my math grades.  But my mom insisted I was capable, so they let me take a placement test.  I got to take pre-algebra in 8th grade - Mom was right.

The other teacher I remember was my English teacher, who was rigid and unkind to me.  I felt like she didn't like me.  I have no idea if there was any truth to that, but that was my perspective as an 11-year-old.  One of my strongest memories of her class was the delight of disruption that came with excessive snow days.

As I got older, and we had different teachers for different classes, I didn't develop strong bonds with most of them as I did when I was in elementary school.  It seemed like part of surviving high school was joining in with others as they found a reason to laugh about the way particular teachers were.  I don't remember the real name of a history teacher who was bald, because my friend and I secretly called him Cue Ball.  He was kind of a no-nonsense guy (Vietnam vet maybe?) but I remember appreciating him - he did make me learn, he made history compelling, and for all his entertaining drill-sergeant style rants, he did show a kind, caring human side when it counted. 

I'll never forget my Latin teacher, not only because I took her classes nearly every quarter of my four years of high school, but because I will always think of her as the absolute paradigm for kindness, compassion, empathy, and sweetness.  She had a very Southern drawl but she was serious about teaching us to pronounce Latin correctly.  And she had a horrible, debilitating health condition that kept her out of the classroom so much that she became my mental example of how bad things happen to good people.

I'm not a certified teacher.  I don't work for a school.  But what if I did?  How would I decide whether to join this movement and communicate that I am willing to participate in a Walk Out --not only to my peers, but to my employer?  What if I lose my job?  What if I lose my certification?  What if I'm living paycheck to paycheck?  Or, what if I'm okay financially, but my (our) action causes my coworker(s) who don't want to participate in this to lose their job and they are one toe above the poverty line?  What if I was scheduled to retire and now I have to push that back?  What if we had a big celebration planned, or what if my child is getting married and now I'm supposed to be working when I was planning to help, or travel for the wedding?  What about my students who are vulnerable if school is out?  Will they be able to eat?  Will this cause them to fall into trouble?  Will it make them stop trusting me and will they lose all the progress they've made this year?  Am I doing the wrong thing?

How about the administrators?  How will we manage to reschedule classes?  What about summer school?  Graduation?  How about programs that work with community colleges for dual enrollment, or what happens with AP exams?  How do we support our staff through this?  Or how do we handle this if our leadership does not support our staff through this?

If I'm a parent who can't take off work when my child's school is unexpectedly closed, what will I do if my kids aren't old enough to stay home alone and I don't have friends or family who can watch them?  Where will I get the extra money to put them in a day camp when all the free ones are full?  How can I get them there if I don't have a car or there's no public transportation to the location?  Should I trust a pop-up day camp that some church has opened up?  Who vetted these volunteers?  What if someone isn't safe and something bad happens to my child?  What if I don't have a sack lunch for them to bring?  What if I can't speak English?  Who will help me?

If I'm a teenage student and I'm supposed to take a trip this summer right after the school year was scheduled to end, now what do I do?  Or what if I have a summer job all lined up and now I won't be able to start working when I'm supposed to?  Will I get fired?  What if my family is depending on me to work and bring income into our household?  What if I'm on my own and/or in the foster care system?  What if I'm supposed to take a summer school class at a college and it starts before the extended school year ends?  What if I have a plane ticket to visit my parent or family in another state?  Will I lose money?  What if my family is moving and we can't change our plans?  Will I not pass?  Will I lose credits?  Will I not graduate?  What if I just enlisted in the military and I'm supposed to go to boot camp right after school was supposed to end?

What if I'm a business owner and I employ high school students, or parents who can't come in to do their job because they are suddenly without child care options?  What if I can't afford to be short-staffed and I have to let my employees go because they're in an impossible situation and can't show up to work? 

What if I'm losing money because I run a summer business or program that has to be canceled?

What if I'm just a taxpayer and I don't have kids or grandkids?  How will this seem fair if my peers or coworkers end up getting special consideration for their situation, like preference for adjusting their vacation time, flexible work hours, or approval for teleworking when I am not granted the same opportunities?  What if I'm a manager trying to handle a diverse staff, seeking to maintain fairness and equity among my staff?

What if I'm in office, trying to bring a resolution forward that may work, and I can't get my fellow legislators and the governor on board?

These questions only begin to scratch the surface of what we and people all around us are going through.

With all of my history as a student, I can imagine what my daughter is seeing and thinking and feeling about this Walk Out.  Although her experience this year has been disruptive because her teacher had to abruptly retire after January, I don't think that teacher or any of the substitutes she's had have ever lacked concern for her and her learning.  She may be happy about a change in the routine, she may be hesitant about being "happy" about it because she knows it might extend the school year.  But what I've tried to do is explain what I know about why this is happening, including giving her a sense of the terrible position her teachers are in right now.  I speak support and positivity to her teachers and staff with her in front of me, so she can see my example and know that this is not easy for them and we understand that.  And it's not okay to be disrespectful no matter what side of the fence we stand on and regardless of who's involved in the conversation (in public or at home).

The fact is, though, that my daughter is safe and cared for, whether school is in session or not.  She has the luxury to not worry about breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, food on the weekend, and where it might come from or if it doesn't come.  She has two parents who both work, but whose employment situations do provide some flexibility here, and fear of losing a job because of the Walk Out is not part of our conversation right now.  She has grandparents and relatives who live in the area and have stable living situations, and there may be options and support for her because that family exists.  What's more, we don't have any major summer plans that will be destroyed by this situation.

I'm not saying people shouldn't take a stand or voice their opinion.  But I am saying everyone, and I mean everyone, is affected by the Walk Out.  Please keep this in mind as we navigate this uncharted territory.