The Road to Happiness Truly is Continually Under Construction
I agree with Linda Gray that the road to happiness truly is continually under construction. Although I have not read her similarly entitled memoir, I immediately identified with the sentiment. Over the course of the past twelve months of the cancer and chemo detour, I have gained a simpler perspective on happiness and joy.
When I was younger, I anticipated a different path than the one I have found myself taking. Among other things, I envisioned enjoying the joy and fulfillment of marriage and children. Over time, that dream gradually slipped away and the reality dawned that time had somehow marched to a faster tempo than I had realized. I had been busy with important, fulfilling pursuits that led me to places and situations that made my childhood dream less and less likely. But, they were worthwhile ways to spend my days, so I cannot say I would make different decisions should I have the impossible option of going back in time.
Then, there was cancer and for months the only pleasures were small ones. Happiness became the stuff of a moment, not a monumental event.
Even now, my focus remains on the small moments I enjoy during the day. To be happy, I try to focus on the present and the people and activities that bring me joy, even if it is simply smiling as I walk around campus to start the day on a positive note, greeting my students by name and shaking their hands as they enter the classroom, singing “Good Morning to You” to these young pupils, or watching as one who has struggled slowly begins to write his name without my help.
Maybe when I have more energy I will aspire to grander schemes of happiness, but for right now I will focus on the small moments that make up life and I have to concede that the road to happiness truly is continually under construction.
In kindergarten tragedy and drama abound. When you are five, tragedy takes on a much different meaning than for most of the rest of the world. Yesterday afternoon, one of the tragedies faced by a young learner in my class was not being called on to share at exactly the moment the child wanted to share. The student was so upset I was shocked. Talk about wailing and gnashing of teeth! But, we were all just a little bit on edge after back to back days of emergency drills. My students performed pretty flawlessly for their first fire drill of the school year on Wednesday. For many of them, it was their first ever! They walked and remained quiet as we had practiced. I was impressed with how they followed directions during the exercise.
Yesterday, we had probably the scariest of all drills required in California public schools: run, hide, and defend. In this simulation, we practice what measures we would take in the event of an active shooter on campus. In some ways, students enjoy the exercise because we hunker down in the dark behind a fort that I singlehandedly improvise in the few moments between the beginning of the drill and when the administration comes to the door to check on my engineering skill, as well as the children’s ability to mute themselves and remain out of sight.
As with the fire drill, my students did a pretty amazing job, considering they are all of five or six years old and we were sitting in tight quarters on a tile floor for about 20 minutes. When students considered the purpose behind the simulation and the what would be at stake, a couple of them became afraid. But, I reassured them it was only a practice, although I was careful to not assure them they would never have to do this for real. Nevertheless, most of the students overcame their fear quickly and when the exercise was over, were immediately distracted by the novelty of inspecting fascinating things found on my desk, which they are never allowed to approach and for good reason–my desk is a catch-all shielded behind a fourth grader high bookcase. The students cannot easily see my unremarkable, metal teacher desk since it is surrounded by play kitchen furniture and the taller-than-them bookcase.
In addition to my lunch bag, travel mug, and school district issued laptop, anything that I can’t remember where it should be kept or that I have never seen before ends up on top of my desk until I can deal with it. Consequently, my desk is a virtual treasure trove of miscellany, including various magnetized objects. I imagine they are doing their best to figure out the tall person in the room and somehow to feel more comfortable with this newfound student-teacher relationship.
However, I cannot read their minds and I am not a psychologist, so it could just be that they are still learning about their environment through a hands-on approach similar to when they were crawling and would pop everything into their mouths. Literally and figuratively, I am simply the biggest thing in the school environment, which they are still trying figure out. I will probably never understand the mystery my students constantly strive to unravel because I do not remember experiencing this kind of mystique surrounding any of my teachers. But, throughout my teaching experience, I have come to expect the curious and sometimes uncomfortable scrutiny of these small ones and I try to remember not to laugh or startle them with my reactions to their questions or observations. Sometimes, without much success because kindergarten tragedy and drama abounds!
This week I tried to understand the new, new normal, or how life was before chemo. For such a long time, chemo affected how my body functioned, either slowing down or completely stopping things like hair growth. Now that my body is rebounding, remembering what a fuller head of hair is like to style, or any number of pre-chemo norms, became necessary. It seems strange to have to force myself to remember and readjust to how life used to be before chemo, but thank goodness it is my current necessity. And, I still have hope that the peripheral neuropathy, which seems to almost disappear for a week or so, only to return a little more unpleasantly at some later point, will completely disappear.
Another adjustment to the new, new normal, or how life was before chemo, is starting up a new school year. Last year, the cancer detour interrupted getting back into the swing of the new school year. Because I had been so fatigued, I didn’t get the classroom fully set up and hadn’t thoroughly taught my customary classroom routines and procedures.
Thankfully, this year I had lots of hands to help me set up before school started and have had help from my new grade level peers to understand the new school culture and grade level expectations. And, this year I have enjoyed the challenge of teaching my new students the routines and procedures they need to know to be successful in school. However, since I moved to kindergarten this year, the process has been completely different.
Although this is my fifth year teaching kindergarteners, I forgot that I had always taught a multiage or combination class where there were older students who understood the words, “Line up” or “Raise your hand.” So, this is my first experience teaching a class full of nothing but kindergarteners. And, boy, are they adorable and sweet and truly interested in almost everything about life, except what I am supposed to teach them. They are interested in each other, in their new shoes, in making friends, in asking a question (which is really telling you something they are simply dying to say), in asking what the bumps on my feet are (prominent veins that I also have on my hands and for which I am thankful when I remember the many IVs and blood draws I have had), in being the line leader or the door helper, in telling you their nose has boogers (true story), and an infinite number of quotidian things to ponder.
More than once, I have heard the beginning of kindergarten likened to herding cats, but I think it might be more like herding gnats because they are simply all over the place, including sometimes in a swarm. The initial effort to teach students how to line up, walk around campus in a somewhat orderly fashion while looking forward and following the person ahead without bumping into, touching, or lagging far behind that person and keeping the noise to a minimum. This might conjure up visions of silence for some, but with my exuberant young students means less than a sixth of them yelling or talking loudly as we move along.
Wednesday a flood of emotions, including a momentary feeling of utter failure overwhelmed me after a morning of constantly reminding, cajoling, and commending kindergarten students for sitting criss cross applesauce on the carpet with their hands in their laps for a short lesson before taking a singing break or moving to sit at desks for independent practice of a letter or a number we had learned. At snack recess, only two hours into our day, a dam of emotion broke. Then, after a reassuring conversation with a colleague, I pulled myself together, ate a banana, and went back to my darling kinder kids again when the bell rang. Oddly enough, my students and I were all in a better frame of mind. They settled and followed directions much more successfully and I was able to think of many routines they already had adapted to and the progress they were making toward internalizing the remaining routines and procedures introduced since the first day of school.
After receiving the uplifting pep talk and bracing hug offered by my colleague, she sent me a link to an article about what teaching kindergarten is like. The description of the world that is kindergarten was so spot on that I decided I had to share the link to the article. It humorously paints the picture that has become my everyday life. While sometimes it can be frustrating to work so arduously to gain the attention of the class for a well thought out lesson only to have some little thing sidetrack the flow, I envy the wonder at simple things in life that my students experience moment by moment. The world where politics, international relations, natural disasters, and tragedies claim center stage is irrelevant in my kinder world because the simple joy of learning to tie shoes or write one’s first name is much more momentous.
Thankfully, getting used to the new, new normal, or how life was before chemo, is something like being in kindergarten; It isn’t anything a hug or eating a healthy snack can’t fix.
Nearly through my first year of cancer anniversaries and thrilled to be moving on with life! For me, the most difficult dates fell on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday this year. Saturday marked the day of my admittance to the hospital for blood transfusions and diagnostic testing, Sunday, the cancer diagnosis, and Monday surgery to remove the tumor.
As I look back, I am grateful for doctors who detected the cancer early, allowing for successful treatment with the goal of avoiding a recurrence. I am also thankful for family and friends who surrounded me during that time, and for all of you, the army of friends and family who loved, encouraged, grieved with, and faithfully prayed for me. I will always be thankful for your companionship on the cancer detour.
Going Back to Kindergarten
After being assigned to first grade for three years and a kindergarten/first grade combination the year before, I am excited to be back in kindergarten at a new school site. Although the learning curve is fairly steep as I attempt to assimilate into a new staff and ready everything for a grade level I haven’t taught in three years, I am glad for a new challenge and surroundings.
This week, I met with my new staff, parents, and my students. It was wonderfully exhilarating, but oh, so tiring! I forgot the amount of teaching about how school works goes into the early weeks of kindergarten. It is very important work that will pay enormous dividends throughout the school career. The time spent kindling the romance with the educational system for my students is a worthwhile investment. However, it is not without its challenges!
After my first day of teaching kindergarten for just five hours, I felt exactly as I did when I was an intern teacher: overwhelmed. The little I had accomplished with the class discouraged me until I met with my grade level colleagues, looked at their faces, and realized they felt the same way I did. Their similar reactions comforted me and I remembered that showing these novice students how school works is an enormous task!
For my young charges, this may be the first experience of not being the one special person in a group. Instead they find themselves among a host of individuals who are every bit as special. Making the discovery that they have to take turns, listen, and follow directions, raise hands to ask a question and walk in a line behind a leader drives home the concept that they are all equally valued and unique. No one is more important or esteemed. Consequently, the day was not without a few challenges and disappointments for a couple of students.
Nevertheless, we took the first few tiny steps on the journey of learning all of the skills necessary to get along in a class of twenty-something in an urban elementary school. As I learn to know each student and what motivates them, and they adjust to our schedule and being just one special person amidst twenty-two special people, I know we will be humming along smoothly before much longer.
Until then, I will focus on what we did well and build on those skills until my students become experts in the business of school.
The nice thing about my new teaching position being so challenging is that I do not have much time to reflect on the fact that I am nearly through my first year of cancer anniversaries–and for me, that is a good thing!
Living Strong, Living Well Trainers and Participants
Back to Work for the New School Year
I am back to work for the new school year as of yesterday. For the past couple of weeks and with loads of help from my family and friend, Julie, I have been preparing the classroom for my incoming kindergartners. With their help, I was able to get things settled in my classroom and brighten up the space with new bulletin boards and interesting materials. I am truly grateful.
Last year, I was in these back-to-school training sessions when I got the call from the doctor’s office confirming I was ill–although the exact cause was still unknown. The simple reality of being back in the same place and at the same time of the year brought a wave of unexpected emotion that I haven’t quite shaken yet. However, I am reminding myself I am healthy and getting that phone call was the best thing that could have happened because it resulted in the cancer being found in time to be successfully and fairly easily treated. I am enormously grateful!
These districtwide meetings mean I see people I haven’t seen in ages. Since I was back to work for such a short time at the end of the school year, even people I see regularly may not have seen me back at work. So, it was heartwarming to have people make a special effort to greet me and let me know they were happy to see me back and looking well. Honestly, I still struggle with how to respond when people ask me about my weight loss or other aspects of my appearance. One lovely colleague commented on my lighter weight and asked me what program I had followed. I quietly leaned over and told her I had had cancer. Her shocked, but compassionate response made me feel terrible for springing the news so baldly and without preamble. However, I have yet to find a mendacious or glib answer to substitute for direct questions. If any of you have suggestions, I would welcome some helpful ideas.
Being at a new school and different grade level rounds out the season of new beginnings I am experiencing. I look forward to meeting new colleagues and my young students next week. I know the future holds challenges and joys, but I look forward to meeting them head on.
On Monday, I wrapped up summer school and Wednesday brought the end of the Living Strong, Living Well (LSLW) program. Both programs helped me grow in very different ways, but came to a bittersweet close.
Over the summer, I enjoyed the challenge of teaching English learners and will continue to implement strategies I used to teach these students. I had a sweet class and will miss them as well as the teachers I came to know through the program.
Similarly, Living Strong, Living Well signaled an end regularly scheduled exercise and ongoing interaction with a small core group of individuals whose constancy and kindness made going to the gym enjoyable and important. I will miss seeing and working out with them on a regular basis, but am pleased to have exchanged contact information so we do not lose touch.
The LSLW end of program testing showed the benefits of my regular exercise and weight training. I showed improvement in strength, endurance, and balance. My speed did not show improvement, but it was not an issue that had raised concern. I am happy to be in the best physical shape of my adult life. And, gym culture and etiquette is no longer a mystery to me. As my summer drew to a close and I was swamped with setting up a new classroom, finishing up summer school responsibilities, and maintaining household chores, I realized how much more energy I had this summer than last and how thankful I am to be able to soldier on without becoming ill or having to take naps every afternoon.
Now that the program has ended and I am back to work, I have to figure out how to maintain these positive habits so that I continue to benefit from good health and fitness, while improving my chances of avoiding a recurrence of cancer. Any suggestions for how to establish and maintain balance so that I can fit work, exercise, meal preparation, and household chores into my schedule? From where I sit right now, it seems almost unattainable. I gladly welcome your suggestions.
Pushing Through Cancer Anniversaries at Full Steam Ahead
I feel like for the next couple of months I will be pushing through cancer anniversaries at full steam ahead. Today is the first anniversary of the doctor visit that began the domino effect that led to the discovery of the cancerous tumor I had.
One of the things I have attempted to do is to never claim the cancer as mine. I always try to refer to it as “the cancer,” not “my cancer,” as though it were a pet or some beloved entity. In fact, in her poem, “I Had Cancer; Cancer Never Had Me,” Emily Ransom shares some thoughts about beating cancer, including this inspiring thought. Calling it “the cancer” or saying, “I had cancer” may seem like irrelevant semantics, but the reality is that attitude and outlook seem to make a difference in overcoming the disease. So, the will to fight and to be actively resisting the effects of the disease become an important component of defeating cancer.
With that preface, I would like to quickly point out that I am not ruminating despondently on these dates. Instead, I am observing them with gratitude that I am still here. I am in excellent health. I am strong. I am enjoying life to the best of my ability. In fact, I strive to keep a positive attitude although I am not still battling cancer. All of my life, my dad has tried to teach me to be less quick to be frustrated over unimportant things that do not make much difference when considering the span of one’s lifetime. The goal of not letting things get to me is an everyday challenge. Life has become more enjoyable since I began to try to look at things from another perspective and not let unimportant happenstance ruin my day, hour, or moment. I still have to remind myself to assume best intentions of others, especially when I am hungry. I seem to have the greatest difficulty keeping a positive perspective then. So, I try to keep healthy snacks nearby in order to stave off the hungry monster.
Lately I have been burning the candle at both ends, but I am still going! With summer school winding down and the new school year looming ever closer, I have been investing time at both school sites in an attempt to finish and kick off both sessions successfully. Although it has been tiring, I have been enjoying teaching. My summer school class has been fun and rewarding and I am looking forward with anticipation to teaching kindergarten at a new school site in the new school year. It has been several years since I taught kinder and I am looking forward to the change. There are all kinds of new chapters to anticipate. I can’t wait to see how these stories turn out!
Last weekend, I learned something about the beauty of Relay for Life. Along with family members and good friends, I participated in this 24 hour event to raise funds for and promote community awareness of cancer. Through generous contributions by team members and friends, the team raised over $700 for the American Cancer Society (ACS). The fundraising continues through the end of August, so if you would like, you may still make a contribution to Team Chel’s effort to fight back against cancer.
Although it was a hot time of the year for the event, I chose to take part in the Relay for Life of Saratoga to mark my transition back to health. San Jose and other neighboring communities hosted their Relays earlier than Saratoga, but I wanted to be energetic enough to walk laps and in the words of ACS, to fight back against cancer.
Most of my team came in from out-of-town. My family stayed in my home. After receiving only limited guests during chemotherapy, having a full house was a blast! I was delighted to have my roommate from my freshman year in college join my team, helping to raise funds and driving a few hours with her family to walk in the Relay.
My team and I didn’t spend the night walking like other teams, but the busy schedule still made for a tiring day. I spent a few afternoon hours napping on the field under our team tent, but walked during cooler times of the day and participated in activities throughout the event.
As I walked laps, I chatted with my teammates as well as folks from other teams that I met while walking around the track. I sensed an immediate kinship born of our common experience with the disease, whether it was as a cancer warrior, survivor, caregiver, friend, family member, or colleague of one who suffered. Our diverse experiences left us with passion to see cancer research move forward toward finding an end to the human suffering caused by the disease.
Sharing an Overcomer’s Story
In a similar same way to the how I take issue with the term cancer journey, I am uncomfortable with the term cancer survivor. To me surviving is just barely squeaking by. However, I plan to do much more than survive. I aim to utterly overcome the disease! So, I prefer to think of myself as a cancer overcomer. I overcome cancer by living life with joy in the present and great anticipation for the future. It’s something like after nearly landing on Boardwalk and Park Place with hotels on them, I instead received a get out of jail free card.
Beyond the release and relief from the fear and uncertainty of cancer, I live mindfully, making choices about so many
things that used to be automatic or even reactionary. Now, I realize I can change my perspective to live with greater hope and purpose, while letting the little things stay the little things in life. I am not saying I have this down perfectly now, but I find a lot fewer reasons to get irritated or upset about than I used to.
Luminaria lighting the field during the ceremony
Sharing my story during the Luminaria Ceremony at Relay gave me a chance to reflect on my life and on how the detour has affected me. Here are a few tidbits from it:
For me, cancer has always had a face. It was a face I had only seen in photos; the face of the maternal grandmother I never knew. Grandmother Alice lost her fight against metastasized breast cancer before I was even born. Her cancer story, as told by my mother and other family members, was of a painful struggle in the days when cancer treatment was limited. It was also a story of the helplessness and hopelessness of family members as they daily watched her waste away, consumed by the pain and devastation of this dreadful disease. Back in those days, there was little treatment for breast cancer beyond radical surgery and certainly besides radiation treatments, no hope for someone with metastatic disease like my grandmother’s. So, our family was marred by this life taken too soon and too ruthlessly by cancer.
Walking laps with my niece, Shiloh.
Because of my grandmother’s battle against this disease, fear of cancer became part of my family identity. At some level, I feared I would get breast cancer like she had. So, I dutifully had my screenings. Then, last year a growth of unknown nature was found in my mammogram and a biopsy was scheduled. I was in agony as I awaited the results and then again six months later, the outcome of the follow-up screenings. However, thankfully both were negative for breast cancer.
Little did I suspect that just a couple of weeks after being cleared of breast cancer and before the age 50, I would be diagnosed with a completely different kind of cancer that was uncommon to my family.
Although I would never wish the trial of chemotherapy or radiation on anyone, I am profoundly grateful these treatments exist. Notwithstanding the persistent tingling of Chemo Induced Peripheral Neuropathy in my fingers and toes, I am thankful I received chemotherapy. I am infinitely grateful for organizations such as the American Cancer Society that have raised funds for cancer research, patient services, and community awareness. Unlike in my grandmother’s day, we benefit from decades of chemotherapy research and trials that have led to the successful treatment of various forms of cancer, giving me an optimistic prognosis for continued health.
Voice of Hope
Because of ongoing research into cancer treatment supported by the American Cancer Society and other organizations, if I have a recurrence, then I will have an even better chance of survival than I would have today.
Better chances at anything in life seems a good thing, but for surviving, or overcoming, I especially like those odds!
The lingering effects of Chemo, such as chemo induced peripheral neuropathy and fatigue, continue to play a part in everyday life. Experts tell me both can take up to a year to resolve, and in the case of fatigue, sometimes even longer. However, life goes on and I am finding ways to cope, although not without being sometimes caught off guard.
Lingering Effects of Chemo: Neuropathy
Lately, I have noticed the neuropathy I experienced in my fingers and feet has been less and less noticeable. At first, it seemed as though it would improve for a few days and then would seem as uncomfortable as ever. However, most recently I have been feeling it just slightly in my hands, although more pronouncedly in my feet. I am relieved and happy this sensation seems to be dissipating and hope soon it will be completely gone!
Lingering Effects of Chemo: Fatigue
Life is busy. There are many things to do to keep house and work. My list of things to do seems endless. I try to do things in chunks and to make the most of the energy I have, but I still sometimes find myself surprised when I come home from a grocery shopping outing and feel the need for a nap. Fatigue makes keeping up on household chores a challenge, so I have adjusted my expectation for what I can get done and have tried to organize things so that I have clean clothes for work and food to throw together for meals. But, beyond that, I simply have had to relax and let my best be okay for now. This is not forever, so I trust that before long, it won’t be such a chore to keep up on chores and the upkeep of housework will feel a little less overwhelming.
Lingering Effects of Chemo: Stunted Hair Growth
Happily, I have short hair sticking up on the top of my head where some new growth has begun to crop up. Although I have begun to see some hair growth in places, there are other places that remain oddly hairless. I do not know if I can expect this to continue long-term or if it just needs some more time to begin to show up.
Lingering Effects of Chemo: Sunburn
Earlier this week, I had the pure joy of taking a nap near the Pacific Ocean. A lovely pair of palm trees provided shade for my afternoon slumber, but since the breeze was somewhat cool, most of my body, including my arms and face, were fully covered, except for my legs and ankles below the capris I was wearing. Time stands still for no one, so upon waking, I found I was in full sun.
Since the breeze was refreshing I did not notice the heat and thought nothing more of it until later that evening when my ankle began to itch. Only then did I realize the bright redness on both of my legs where they had been carelessly exposed to the afternoon sun. My oncologist insisted I take care to avoid the sun while I was on chemotherapy, but after I finished chemo, I began to spend more time out of doors at various times of the day. Although I had only been exposed to the sun for about 20 minutes that afternoon, I suffered for days from the pain of this sunburn.
Hopefully, the chemo effect will soon be completely out of my system, but until then, there will be no more carefree siestas in the afternoon sun without being fully covered to protect myself from the sun.
When I was finishing up chemo, I decided I wanted to do positive things to establish a healthy lifestyle as a person who had moved past cancer treatment. All through chemo I worked to maintain a healthy, balanced diet and regular exercise routine. After treatment, I wanted to keep up these positive changes, but I also wanted to do something to mark the transition from being a patient to thriving in post treatment life.
One of the ways I found to do this was by signing up for a local American Cancer Society Relay for Life fundraiser. So, I signed up as a team captain and began recruiting people to be on my team. With just two weeks until Relay for Life of Saratoga, my team remains small. But, I am happy for those who have chosen to join me and to mark my transition back to life as I once knew it. I am grateful for their support and look forward to a fun-filled time.
Just today, I became a Hero of Hope speaker and will share at the Luminaria Ceremony during the Relay event. If you find yourself in the San Jose area and have time to come by St. Andrews Field at 13601 Saratoga Avenue, Saratoga, CA on July 23, 2016 between about 8:30 or 9:00 p.m., I will be sharing some thoughts on life from a cancer survivor’s perspective.
Other Lingering Effects of Chemo
There are other effects of chemo that remain with me. In addition to peculiar physical side effects, I have a new perspective and a more grateful attitude. While I find myself frustrated that I have not been able to keep up contact with friends as I did while on chemo, I still find myself thinking about them and am grateful for their ongoing support and presence in my life. I feel amazingly blessed to have so many people in my life who care about me and are willing to walk along what has been a difficult path this past year. Although I do not know what the future holds, I am expecting wonderful things because I know I will continue to be surrounded by the best group of people who will accompany me no matter what comes my way!
As we head into July, I am mindful of the first anniversaries of the cancer detour and thankful to be healthy. In fact on July 5 last year, I first began to have notable symptoms of the undetected illness within. Although I had slept through the summer into July, it had not occurred to me that I might be ill. But when July dawned, it became more difficult to dismiss the symptoms I was experiencing. However, for about a month I had no suspicion of anything worse than the stress of traveling. Thankfully, a knowledgeable doctor connected the scattershot of dots I described and ordered the right blood work to begin the diagnostic process that revealed the tumor growing within. For that, I am eternally grateful.
In fact, I am thankful for so many things. Every day as I maneuver my way through commute to traffic on the drive to summer school, I thank God for this job. Although I have to get up before 5:30 on these summer mornings, I am grateful to be working for such a great district and to be meeting different teachers, with varied experience and background, from whom I can learn. I am thankful for the students in my class who are eager to learn and easy to teach. During these few weeks, I am implementing teaching strategies I was trained in two years ago, but haven’t had the need to try out yet. Realizing that I can use these techniques successfully to impact student learning gives me another reason to be grateful.
Along with teaching summer school, I am thankful for the Living Strong, Living Well program. Up until now, I have not loved going to the gym. I always felt out of place because I didn’t know what to do and have a terrible time trying to follow the complicated choreography of some exercise classes. Although I may enjoy that kind of exercise, I often find myself zigging when the rest of the class is zagging. It makes for a highly stressful experience that counteracts the positive feelings generated by the endorphins released through the exercise. So, I am thankful for Ron and Trish, the YMCA trainers, who partner with Stanford to offer Living Strong, Living Well that are teaching me to use machines for cardio exercise and also for weightlifting. Their kindness and patience encourage me to do my best and to use the machines correctly, while not overdoing the weight. These trainers and the other participants in the program give me yet another reason to be thankful.
Summer School and Struggle to Set a Post Chemo Routine has been the whole of my life in the past few days.
Summer School and Struggle for a Post Chemo Routine
This week summer school started and so began the struggle to re-establish a healthy routine with balanced time between work and the rest of my life. It has been a great challenge for me. So far, I have managed to spend an enormous amount of time at work and been consistent at the gym, but keeping up on household chores has been somewhat disastrous. Just to keep things interesting, I am having trouble getting to bed at a reasonable time and then having to roll out early the next morning because the school where I am teaching places me squarely in the middle of commute traffic. Consequently, it has seemed like the longest week! And actually, it is only the second full week I have worked since being released back to “normal” life.
But, I am enjoying teaching a new group of first grade or almost second grade students and working with a new staff. I consider this my time to work with training wheels on as I prepare to ride solo at another new school this fall. So far, things have been going well. Using training and experience from the past few years, I am having fun developing lessons with the needs of this unique group of students in mind. It has been a delightfully intriguing challenge that is yielding plentiful rewards. I am enjoying a deep joy and satisfaction in the job that I am doing and in the response of students to the lessons and activities I plan to engage them in learning.
Similarly, my students have settled into a happy routine and seem to be enjoying learning in my class. They have formed friendships with students from various schools, as this is a districtwide program and many of them had never met one another before. I am glad to see them happily engaged in learning and have once again remembered why I love teaching! I am hoping that this excitement and energy for teaching persists into the coming school year at my new school site and that I will be able to establish healthy boundaries for work that lead to a happy and healthy lifestyle that is conducive to good physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual health.
Seeking Words of Wisdom
As I continue to struggle to find equilibrium in my life, I could use words of wisdom for what you have found or observed works.