Sing it anyway!

                                     

"God is great! But sometimes life ain't so good." These are the chorus words to Martina's song here.

As you watch the video, be sure to pay attention to the words written ... the thoughts of the people who are standing at a crosswalk together, each lost in their own thoughts about their desires and wishes for their lives. You see them in the first few seconds just walking across the street, then throughout the video, you will see what each individual is thinking. Some are so poignant, like the couple. He wants to marry her, she wants to be left alone... the old man who just wants to be needed.

I just woke up from a five hour nap. A much needed nap, it seems. I had taken a half-day of sick leave, first to get a chest x-ray, then to come home and go to bed, which I did promptly. What a revival it was. The rest I could not find during the nights came to me during this one lengthy nap. I feel good.... relatively.

After I woke up, I let the dogs out, turned on the TV (it was time for the news to come on), and there was this Martina McBride video. Good timing. I loved her words... they inspire us to do more than we think we are capable of doing.

I went to the doctor yesterday. Had too many symptoms, and the tiredness was preventing me from being 100%. I do not like being in the classroom and not feeling 100%, you know?

She suspected pneumonia... was surprised because I had the same thing back in December. This time it's in the other lobe. Antibiotics treated it last time, so we're shooting for the same again this time.

Taking the nap today helped a great deal in restoring my spirit.

I'm not a big country music fan... I don't listen to the radio very much... I've not had the opportunity to hear this song before, nor this singer. However, this one struck a chord in my heart. It speaks to what I believe... and I think many of us believe.... that despite the obstacles in our lives and the storms that wreck through, we will overcome and keep forging ahead. Whether we understand or not, we sense that there is something more powerful influencing our lives, and we want to be part of that power.

Life is fragile, be bold anyway.

Thank you all for your comments of concern... seems I have been sick quite a bit these past nine months, but I did change schools this year. Different environment... maybe new germs? I don't know, but I'm getting better again. Just in time for the last week of school.

 

Tags: Martina McBride, Sing it Anyway, YouTube

Score: Virus 10, Toenail 1

As luck would have it, this being a three day weekend for many, including myself, I became too sick to make any entries... actually sick enough to stay in bed all the weekend, until today. I got up in between the temperature checks and getting something to drink to check emails, made a few comments in others' journals, let the dogs out. Ibuprofen and acetaminophen have helped to keep the fever below 102, and just awhile ago the thermometer read 98.8. Tussinex for the coughing. I will call my doctor tomorrow if I haven't improved.

It's after five pm and tomorrow I will either be in the classroom or there will be a sub. Either way, I have lesson plans to write up. So I'm off to school to get my plans and materials together. The catch is that it would be far better for me to go in and make it through the day (providing I don't have the fever) tomorrow than it would be to spend three hours planning and writing up four pages of lesson plans.

I know, the teachers out there are saying "I have my plans written by Friday when I leave the school." One needs scheduled planning time between 7 a.m. and 5 p.m. and often that time is taken up by meetings, both planned and unplanned. I'm getting tired of hearing myself say it as well. I have classes back to back all the day long, every day. I slip in my plans when I can, but the best way I've found to deal with my lack of planning times is to go in on Sundays. Except when I am sick on Sundays. Like yesterday.

The last three weeks of school are of the most intense in the life of the school community, as are the first three.

Next year, I hope to have a better schedule.

Thank you for all of your comments about my toe... grin... but this little virus is causing a great deal more discomfort than the toenail removal did.

Blah... but at least I had today to stay in bed!!

Toe surgery means giving up something (temporarily)

No more big toe pictures. I'm tired of them, and so you must be as well. Suffice it to say that the toe is healing, and the non-stick gauze pad works beautifully. This afternoon I was able to easily and painlessly remove the dressing I had put on my toe last night. Today, it slipped right off, without all the trauma of having to soak it and ease it off, a nanocentimeter at a time.

My legs are now getting achey from having to walk around all day on open-toed sandals or flip-flops that don't provide any arch support. I'm hoping to wear regular shoes by Tuesday.

Another thing I had to give up (temporarily) as a result of the toenail removal was going to work out at the gym. I mentioned last month how I had joined a local gym, just a couple of blocks from my school. I cannot wear sports shoes, nor move fast on my feet, so I haven't been to the gym all week.

I miss it, going to the gym. It has become part of my daily routine... M-T-W-Th .... each afternoon (after school) at 5:30 I've been going there to work out for 60 minutes. Each night there'd be a different focus in the work out. One night there's aerobic dancing and abs; another night, power workout and legs; another night the focus is upper body workout and abs; another night some other combination. We work out with free-weights (3lb, 5lb and 8 lb are the ones I'm working with), and large stretchy rubber-bands with handles on them to do resistance stretches. Sometimes we jump rope, do sit ups on these huge inflated rubber-like balls; we do leg exercises using steps, and then we do mat exercises. But everyone seems to really like the aerobic dancing... I haven't got all the fancy arm movements, but I'm getting the hang of the leg and foot movements.

The ladies who attend this class regularly are from various age groups and walks of life, but we are all there for one reason: to get in better shape. I didn't say body-building shape, nor ideal shape, but better shape. We want to be fit, no matter at what age this priority hits us.

Looking around at us in the mirror I can see that we all have some work to do, but there is definitely a feeling that each woman accepts her body and loves herself. They encourage each other, laugh at each other's foibles, and help new people when they come in. I'm getting to know their names, and which classes they prefer. They even have a favorite place to do their workout on the floor of the work-out room.

One lady I met is from Mexico. She's teaching me Spanish each day, while I help her with her English. I asked her how do you say "Let's dance!" and she said "Vamose a bailloc!" (The V in 'Vamose' sounded like a soft B when she said it) I believe were her words. Not sure if I have the spelling, but now every time I see her I call out her name "L...! Vamose a bailloc!" and she laughs and repeats it back to me. She's about as tall as me, so when our trainer tells us to pair up, we just pair up without thinking. That's when I ask her how to say one phrase or another. I love her accent. I'm trying to pick that up as well.

Steve and I just got back from watching the movie Bridge to Terabithia. The young actor who played Jess reminds me of a young Ben Affleck... he has my vote for future heart throb. He also resembles a very young Nathan Fillion (Serenity; Firefly). Could portray his son easily. His name is Josh Hutcherson... he co-starred in RV and Zathura, two other movies 've seen but hadn't paid as close attention to his skills as an actor until I saw 'Bridge.' His co-star, Anna SophiaRobb is also going to be making some spectacular films herself one day. Both these child stars demonstrate a talent for expressing the awkward emotions and innocent love that accompanies the young teen years.

I heard some folks aren't getting their alerts again... I'll be taking some time to visit journals and blogs tomorrow. Thanks for the heads up.

 

High School Seniors Present Their Best

A couple of weeks ago, I received an email from the local high school. Students from the elementary school where I teach now will attend that high school one day. The email was an invitation, extended to various professionals from the community, to be among the judges of the Seniors' Graduation Project. I had accepted the invitation.

Since this is my first year in the school zone, I thought it would be an excellent opportunity to get involved, to gain some inside knowledge and experience, to meet the teachers, to walk in the halls and sit in the classrooms. I'd have stories to tell my students about their future high school. Very important when you are a fifth grader on your way to sixth grade... changing schools and growing up is very painfully on their minds.

I am so glad I did. I had no idea what I'd be doing. I didn't know anyone who had volunteered to be a judge in this capacity. But it sounded like a little adventure to me, one in which I would have contact with senior high school students.

The people who organized and directed the event are top notch individuals, and I don't even know them except by the names I saw on the email.

It began at 4:30 pm. First, they explained what our responsibilities as judges would be, and gave us the background of the Senior Projects, its history, you might say. Not every school in our county is doing this, but I think we were told that next year every school would be expecting seniors to present a product/portfolio to represent their best work, to show off some talent or area of interest. They had to write a paper, design a project poster board (like the science project boards, only bigger) to display the process, speak for ten minutes, and present the product. The product could be anything. There were 100 Senior Projects.

This evening, I saw the five of them: a power point presentation and video of one student's car customization project; a young lady's interest in firefighting expressed with photos of her learning at the firehouse, and getting involved in some of the training; a young man's love for table tennis led him to write about the history of table tennis and to build a regulation ping-pong table, which he had brought to school to show us. It was sturdily built... I'm sure it will last him until his grandchildren want to teach their children how to play ping-pong. Another student talked about his interest in carpentry, and showed the break-away bookcase he made, his first ever carpentry experience. A young lady, who is going to pursue a career in cosmetology, researched skin care, and talked about various topics related, like make-up, nutrition, sun exposure.

I was impressed by their effort to impress us. They'd been given guidelines about how to present, how to dress, how to speak. I know they were all so nervous. Some were better prepared than others. But each and every one of them was stepping out on a limb, standing in front of five adult community professionals, four of us were strangers to them, two of us were teachers. But each student stepped up, individually, and had our attention for at least ten minutes.

They had to tell something about themselves, their families, how they chose their project, their obstacles and successes in completing it. They also had to talk about how they went about finding a mentor and advisor to assist them in professional or vocational areas, and what they learned from the experience/process.

We, the judges, were each given five grid sheets, one per student, with rubrics in all the areas to be judged. Students could be given anywhere from 1 point to 4 points for each criteria being judged. Our score sheets would be placed in a brown envelope for that student, and he/she will receive it tomorrow. Best of all, we had a comment sheet to give to each student. So each student would get five score sheets, and five comment sheets from their judging.

I made the best of this opportunity. Think about it: these are high school students. They had to stand before us and make a ten minute presentation. They had to dress professionally, talk about themselves, and talk about their area of interest. We just had to listen and watch, and give them feedback. Their project grade would be based on their presentation, and our judging responses.

When would I ever get to tell a high school student what I saw as their strengths, and point out some nuance of their personality or behavior that would carry them forward? When will a teenager be expecting me to judge something they made? When will something I write on paper mean so much to them as those few sentences I wrote in response to their project this evening?

I made every word count. Five students are going to feel good about their work tomorrow when they get their brown envelopes. I'm not the only one who felt that way... from what I heard after it was over, the other judges were equally committed to leading and guiding our youth through successful experiences.

So now I'm thinking I could do this every semester. And if I keep this up, in another eight years, I could be judging the senior project of one of my own fifth grade students. Now wouldn't that be a rewarding experience?

Final note: Day three of the Toe Story. I only felt discomfort during the Seniors Project presentation, probably from all the sitting. After I got home, I soaked it again, and put a new dressing and bandage on it... now I'm feeling good again, and ready to go to bed. Notice the bandage is getting smaller. I hardly limped all day... still wearing open-toe sandals. No one stepped on my toe... I still can't believe how almost painless it is.

The worst part is when I'm soaking it and the dressing sticks to the raw skin. That hurts a little, but doesn't last longer than ten minutes. I solved the problem though. Tonight I used non-stick gauze. I'll find out tomorrow night if it really works.

                             

 

Left Toe, Day Two

Surprisingly, my toe did not hurt very much today, and all I took for pain (that I thought I might have) was extra strength Tylenol. I'd had a decent sleep during the night, with only the minor inconvenience of having to elevate my leg. It is possible the hydrocodone tablet before I went to bed had much to do with the decent sleep.

However, after I woke up and started to walk around, I could tell it was going to be difficult getting around today. I put on the 'boot' that I was given yesterday, but it caused greater discomfort, so I threw it in my bag (in case I might need it later in the day), and put on a pair of open-toed sandals, which felt more comfortable.

As I hobbled about the house getting ready for school, I noticed the pain was only in the lifting of my foot off the ground, not in placing it down, and not in standing on it. Just when I lifted my foot off the ground to take a step. It ached a bit, even as I drove to school, and walked into my classroom.

I anticipated the questions. Teachers and students would be asking me what happened. I hadn't told anyone about the 'problem' I'd had with the toe nail... it is not exactly a hot topic.  Kind of up there with an abscessed tooth or hemorrhoids. What would I tell them? I didn't have toe surgery, it wasn't even an ingrown toenail. Who hasn't seen those disgusting little fungus characters on the Lamisil commercials? Yuck!

One thing I've learned from being a classroom teacher is that some things you shouldn't lie about or tell stories about. Kids don't like it when they find out you've been hiding something from them. Especially regarding the teacher's health. They want to know what's wrong when their teacher is sick, or hurt, or wearing a huge bandage on her left toe.

When the fifth graders asked, just before we began the EOG math test, I decided to explain my toe problem with words of caution, how they should be careful if they've ever dropped something on their toe, or damaged their toe nail. They took it pretty well. They knew what I was talking about when I said the word fungus. I'm sure they'd seen the commercials. But they loved it when I told them about the options the doctor gave me, and when I hinted at what the doctor did, they squirmed.

First graders are a different breed. My concern with them was their lack of awareness of bodies in space, and my fear was that their little heavy feet would stomp on my very tender toe. These students I warned directly. "Do not go anywhere near my feet today, and don't even accidentally step on my foot!"

"Why?" the inevitable question came. Wide innocent eyes waiting for the answer.

"Because if you do, I will die!" Poor choice of words, but very effective.

"You will?" asked the most innocent of them. He took things literally.

"Not really, but if you step on my toe today, I will probably scream very loudly, and you don't want to hear me do that."

No one stepped on my toe today.... the kids were very careful around me. They don't want to see me die, and they don't want to see me turn into a screaming beast. Fortunately for me.

The good news is that the day went fairly well, I hardly hobbled after 8 a.m. I was able to give the test, and stand and walk about without any discomfort at all.

Doctor had told me to soak it tonight and replace the dressing. He said put a bandaid on it. I didn't dare just put a bandaid on it... I want some padding around that baby. So I wrapped it good. I'm hoping tomorrow will go as well as today.       

                             

                            Losing one's toenail isn't asbad as I thought it would be.

                

My Big Fat Left Toe... Warning! Graphic Foot descriptions.

 

 

 

 

I went to school this morning wearing my knee-hi's and shoes, and came back with this: 

 

                                     

How, you might ask, did this turn of events come around?

I went to the Podiatrist this afternoon, just before school dismissed. I have never visited a Podiatrist before, but alas, my own family doctor recommended it a couple of months ago.

He gave me three options: 1.  three months of Lamisil (it's very expensive, insurance won't cover it, may tax the liver, takes a year for the new nail to grow back);

2. File the entire nail down real thin, then apply some high end topical treatment to kill the fungus every day. It's an aggressive treatment. Works 50% of the time. Will take a year for new healthy nail growth.

3.  Remove the toenail (what?). When the nail bed heals, apply expensive topical treatment every day as new nail grows back, and within a year, I will have a new healthy nail.

The least expensive, with best results, and least impact on my body's major organs was to opt for the latter. And the good doctor said he could do it right there and then. At 3:30 this afternoon. I asked if he could do it this coming Friday afternoon, you know, give me the weekend to get my foot back into a regular shoe for school. He checked his calendar, but no go... he was filled with podiatrical appointments all the day long.

So I made an executive decision all by myself, and said, "Take the toenail." But only after I drilled him on the after effects, like "how much pain will this be?" and "I have to be on my feet all day tomorrow (EOG testing, you know), so will I be in pain tomorrow?" and finally, most importantly, "I want to sleep tonight.. I don't want any pain waking me up at 3:00 a.m."

I do not deal easily with pain in my mouth, or pain in my feet. I had imagined the pain of a removed toenail could be throbbing, like a bad tooth-ache. Shuddder!

He assured me that the only pain I'd feel was the needle stick when he injected the local anesthetic into my toe (I'm good with that). He dismissed my concerns for tomorrow, saying that Tylenol would take care of any pain I would encounter during the day. Finally, he promised to prescribe Vicodin for any pain I might experience during the night.

So he numbed up the toe. He was right. I only felt three needle sticks. I took a peek at one point to see what he was doing, but just watching him manipulate the poiny silvery thing around the edges of my nail made me look away. I didn't want to see what he was doing. I turned my thoughts to other things, like how nice my toes would look this summer... no more thick, white, disgusting appendage at the end of my delicate little feet.

Yeah, so if you ever injure your toenail, be warned. It happened to me, it can happen to you. If you see a split or crack in your toenail, don't just ignore it. Such a minor appearing injury can let in the grungy fungus. I have no idea where I picked it up at.

My guess is the shower stall in the dormitory room two summers ago at a well-known university in a small mountain town of NC. I had spent many hours of the day wading in water, and then hiking in wet shoes that week... possibly that helped maintain the kind of environment fungus grunge likes to live in. I should have taken better care of my feet, but I didn't even think about it... was having too much fun learning about macroinvertebrates

                                                                         

and learning about The Lorax, and how to save our environment (beginning with educating our children).

                                                           

I had taken a picture of the Lorax portrait here that was painted on the office wall of one of the Pisgah Institute's professors. I don't know who the artist is.

Supposedly, my toenail will be well enough in two weeks to begin painting on the medicine that will prevent the fungus from returning as the new nail grows back. But for this summer, I will only have nine toenails.

When it grows back, I will show you my new healthy toe nail!!! (Like anyone is interested).

So I'm off to elevate my foot for the next twelve hours. Not much pain at the moment, just a minor throb to let me know I better not overdo it or I will pay for it later.

Sure hope I made the right decision. I wonder how my students will react. I hope no one gets clumsy and steps on my toe tomorrow!!! I'm thinking I'll be wearing a special shoe, the one they let me wear home today.

Wish me luck.

 

PS   I apologize for the enormosity of the foot photo, but I could not edit it to a medium small size. The new aol picture tool allows us to select a size (small, medium, large, original... I think these are the choices). Small is way too small, like you would add to your sidebar-small. Medium is what I selected, but that is way too large for this particular shot. So I thought, no problem. After I get the picture I can just manipulate the corners using the mouse and make it smaller. After I made it to the size of my liking, I saved it so. However, the size I made it does not translate onto my page. It has remained 'medium'. I've got to find out how to reduce and enlarge beyond the standard, preset sizes that aol pictures has created for us.

 

 

Tags: Toe nail fungus, treatments for nail fungus,

Under the Oaks at Elon

The commencement yesterday at Elon was not the usual of commencements. My student teacher was graduating. (I wrote about her in a previous entry.)

It was my first at Elon University, which is ironic because my own graduation should have been my first. Had I been there. Yet there is something anticlimactic about walking in a graduation ceremony four months after one has left the school and started working. But that is what happens when you complete your college courses/final exams in July, missing the June graduation. You have to attend the December graduation services.

Same thing happened to me in Athens, Georgia in 1975. I had finished classes in August, we moved to NC, a newly married couple, I got a job. By the time December rolled around, I did not want to drive to GA for a graduation ceremony that no one in my family would have been able to attend since they either lived in North Carolina, Connecticut or California. What is the point when your loved ones won't be there? So I didn't attend my 1975 graduation. The degree came to me in a brown envelope by mail carrier.

Then came the Special Education degree over twenty years later. I was so thrilled to be in school again, and felt very fortunate that such a highly accredited college as Elon was just twenty miles from my home. I enrolled in 1996, and completed the final exams in July of 1999. I also started teaching in August of that same year. By the time December had rolled around, I, fully immersed and overwhelmed by first year teaching demands, didn't even care to walk in a graduation ceremony. What difference would it make if I went or not? I doubted anyone in my family would have attended, possibly son and husband. I opted to forego the formalities.

Ever since then, when I attend a commencement service, I have mixed feelings. Part of me says "Bea, you should have attended your college graduation... it was your special moment to feel proud and accept the praise that your family and friends would have been happy to bestow upon you. You denied them that opportunity."

The other part of me says, "I'm glad I didn't go through all this pomp and circumstance... look how long these services are!! No wonder I opted to stay home. I wouldn't want to put anyone through this sitting and waiting."

But sitting there under the Oaks on the Elon Campus, surrounded by proud and happy members of my student teacher's family, I felt proud myself. She and I had worked together for ten weeks. It probably felt like boot camp to her, but she made it through with flying colors.

I met her parents (our second meeting), her grandparents, her boyfriend and his dad, cousins, aunts, and uncles. What nice people all of them were. I didn't see her actually walk across the stage, though. Moments before her name was called out, I leaned forward and asked her sister what the plan was, you know, do we shout out some encouraging word, or her name? Are we going to say something, let her know we are here?

Her sister said we could do sign language... I sensed a bit of hesitation. Remembering my girlfriends, and our joy when Alyson's son graduated from the School of Math and Science last year, I suggested we make a little noise. "Let's shout out something." Her young cousin said "How about 'Go J...?" So we plotted that for the one to three seconds we had, from the time her name was called to the time she received her degree, we could quickly stand up and shout 'Go J....!!" We didn't want to take up another student's time to be recognized. That would have been too rude and disrespectful.

Suddenly, her name was called, we jumped up, shouted our encouragement, and sat down. The people standing in front of me were way taller than I, so in standing, I didn't see her walk across the stage.

Afterward, we met at the reception area, also on the campus lawn, and I gave her the card on which I'd written my congratulations, and hugged her. She looked tired, anxious, ready to go home. It was time for me to leave, 12:45, and I'd been there since almost 9a.m.Graduation services take a long time, especially when there are a thousand graduates, as Elon honored individually yesterday morning.

Oh, and each and every graduate received a gift from the school: a young oak tree to plant when they get home.  A lovely and appropriate symbolic gift that would no doubt last a lifetime in the hearts and minds of these young people.

You won't believe this, but I had left my camera in my car... I don't have any pictures. Bah!

I did meet three of my former professors there, however, the ones who taught me ten years ago, the same ones who taught my student teacher. It felt good to say hello to them and chat for awhile.

I told them I'd be waiting for another student teacher next year.

 

Tags: Elon, Under the Oaks, graduation, commencement,