Stories from a Life I Didn't Plan

Tag: My Hijacked Life (Page 5 of 7)

Doing Common Core Math Before It Was Common Core

When I was a student, my parents helped me when I had questions about my homework. My mom helped with English and writing, while my dad handled math and science. During my school career, math was taught through solving algorithms. However, my dad was doing Common Core Math before it was Common Core.

Because I spoke the language of algorithms and my dad spoke of numbers as if they made sense, I felt like we were using two different numeric systems. My dad had learned from his dad, my Pa Crowe, how to quickly add numbers by decomposing and composing them in his head. Dad could break numbers down into manageable parts or substitute more easily manipulated numbers in order to find area, sums, and all kinds of other mathematical values. Inevitably, our math conversations ended up with me frustrated because I could not follow Dad’s mental math since I had limited mastery of numeracy.

As time marched on and higher order math became an integral part of my studies, this lack of numeracy became a hindrance to me because I could not effectively manipulate numbers. I could not figure out what a reasonable mathematical solution would be and was practically incapacitated if I did not  have an algorithm to depend upon. While Dad could solve problems by understood numbers and employed diverse mathematical methods, they made little sense to me because my teachers forced me to follow algorithms and rarely gave me a chance to understand numbers.

How ironic that as a teacher I would be challenged to rethink math in order to teach my students the kind of math Pa Crowe taught my dad, and my dad, in turn, tried to pass on to me. I became grateful for the mathematical conversations engraved upon my memory, as well as the ongoing talks I have with Dad. As an adult, I have gained the sense of numeracy that escaped me as a student largely because Pa Crowe and Dad were doing Common Core Math before it was Common Core.

Ways to Support Someone During a Serious Health Crisis

ways to support someone during a serious health crisis

Chemo Infusion Number 2

Since I began leading a very sequestered life due to chemotherapy, many of my family, friends, and neighbors have offered to help me however they can. So, I have been thinking of suggestions for ways to support someone during a serious health crisis.

As an independent, single person, sometimes I find asking for and accepting help difficult. I hate to inconvenience anyone and hesitate to ask if I think I will be imposing. And frankly, sometimes I cannot think about getting dressed, let alone what I might need. Nevertheless, I am deeply grateful to these kind folks for their offers and have taken many up on their kindness.

First, try to find out about the person’s needs and health limitations. Then, decide how you are able and willing to help . Finally, make a sincere, specific offer of assistance.

In addition to the myriad tasks my mother does for me, I have a neighbor and friends who get me groceries or other miscellany at the store; a friend who offers to go to chemo with me; a friend who brings dinner on the weeks my mom is at home and brings various items from the store; a sister who acts as my personal shopper and is not a bit bothered by becoming the annoying person in the store on her cell phone while she FaceTimes me to show me a product before making a purchase; a friend who comes over to walk with me; and another friend who calls to say, “I’m on my way to Target or Costco, can I pick up anything for you?” It is a lot less intimidating to ask someone to buy something for you when they are already at the store.

One of the casualties of health is energy. Staying on top of everyday tasks as simple as housework and meal preparation can become an unachievable goal.  If you have time and are willing, consider offering to sweep, mop, vacuum, clean the bathtub, launder clothes, or take out the trash. Maybe bringing a meal would be helpful, once you find out what dietary restrictions have to be followed. Perhaps you could take the car to get gas or offer to drive to appointments or help with chores, like banking or going to the post office. If they are in a chemo fog, or have chemo brain, they might need help organizing tasks like paying bills and keeping track of medical appointments and prescriptions.

If you are not sure what you can do, I have a few other suggestions of ways to support someone during a serious health crisis, and I encourage you to check out other websites that share creative ways to be supportive, like 20 MORE Things You Can Do When Someone You Love Has Cancer,  44 Ways to Make the Day of Someone With CancerHow to Help a Friend Going Through Treatment for Cancer, My Angry Cancer, and We Need to Stop Saying, “Let Me Know If You Need Anything” .

For me, when my friends have been specific about how they can help me, it makes it a lot easier to say, “Thanks. I would really appreciate that.” And, I do. I truly do appreciate each kind act you do for me.

 

Bestowing the Gift of Presence

Before I was diagnosed with cancer, I often felt inadequate and uncomfortable when I went to visit friends or relatives in the hospital. Of course I would gladly pray and offer encouraging words, but I often walked away feeling as though my visit had little impact. This feeling was not because I  believed the prayers or words of encouragement that I offered were meaningless, but because when I walked out of the hospital room I saw no visible change in the physical condition of the person. It seemed like my visit had not made a difference. I did not understand that I had been bestowing the gift of presence. In other words, I showed up and accompanied the individual in the moment of need.

Now, five months after my own diagnosis, I realize that bestowing the gift of presence, or simply showing up, is the most important thing. My admission to the hospital was very quick. I had a doctor’s appointment and a couple of hours later, I was admitted to the hospital. None of my family members had time to get to me before I had to go to the hospital, so a dear friend took me and stayed with me. She supported me by bestowing the gift of presence as I did the paperwork and tried to navigate the unfamiliar workings of a hospital.

A few hours later, my mother arrived and never left. Just a few short hours after that, the cancer diagnosis was made and I had another diagnostic test before being prepped for surgery the next morning. So later that night, my dad and three sisters all came to see me, as well as long-time family friends. My two oldest nieces came. My older sister stayed, holding my  hand, all night in the room with me the night before surgery and my youngest sister the following night.

The presence of my family and friends comforted and encouraged me as a tangible demonstration of their love. I did not have time to grow anxious about surgery or even about having cancer because I was surrounded by the people most important to me. As my hospital stay extended, other friends came to visit. They were there with me and somehow this unexpected cancer detour felt better, easier, and far less frightening.

As  I continue with chemotherapy, I have many friends and family members who are with me. They call, send texts, cards and gifts; go with me to appointments; post comments on my blog, Facebook page or Caringbridge pages, surrounding me with their prayers, love, and encouragement.

This cancer detour is a lot less lonely and frightening because of all of you. Thank you for bestowing the gift of presence. Your presence makes a world of difference to me.

 

Managing Chemo Side Effects

One of the most important conversations I had with the oncologist before starting chemotherapy highlighted all possible side effects and how to go about managing chemo side effects.

Nausea, cold sensitivity, infertility, hair loss, skin dryness, neuropathy, low white cell count, low platelet count, risk of infection, mouth sores, etcetera. For each chemo regimen, the list varies, but nothing on any list is very appealing.

Knowing what might lay ahead helped me feel equipped and  empowered as I started chemo. In fact after the first round of chemo, I thought I knew what to expect and talked to the oncologist about how to mitigate the most bothersome side effect that I had experienced. I felt confident that I was well prepared for dealing with this chemo thing.

Then came round two. Side effects were similar, except that the main side effect from round one was no longer an issue and the preventive measures I took actually made me miserable.

From round to round, I have found that the side effects can vary somewhat or other times widely. Sometimes one will be worse than another and just as soon as I have a plan with the oncologist to mitigate the most bothersome, another pops up and the first one doesn’t seem so bad.

Yes, it makes planning difficult. But sometimes, it is also a relief when nausea that had persisted from round to round suddenly isn’t a problem at all in one round. I still believe that being informed and prepared for chemo is preferable to going in without the information. I am grateful for sites like livestrong.com and the American Cancer Society that provide information about the side effects of chemotherapy for different kinds of cancer.

For me, managing chemo side effects is a little like playing a video game: Just when you think you have it mastered, you get bumped up to the next level where the environment is the same, but the variables have changed.

They say forewarned is forearmed and indeed I can say that at this point in my chemotherapy I am ready for just about anything.

 

An Unshakeable Legacy of Love

Two days ago my Granny Crowe would have turned 101 years old if she were still alive. Although Granny left us before we were ready, she left her family an unshakeable legacy of love.

When I was a girl, on Saturdays my family would drive to Granny and Pa’s where my sisters and I would play with our cousins. We would run around outside and do who knows what, but we had fun because we were at Granny and Pa’s.

My most precious memory of going to Granny and Pa’s was how special I felt in the middle of that grand group of cousins. Granny had a gift for making people feel like they were precious and exquisitely loved. Among the murder of Crowes, I was an insignificant pipsqueak. I was born with crooked feet, a speech impediment, and brown eyes. I was the second of four girls and there was nothing significant about me except for one thing: most of the Crowes had the most beautiful blue eyes.

But not me.  My eyes were brown. Over the years they have lightened up to a more nondescript color, but when I was a girl they were most definitely brown. Granny made sure that having those brown eyes made that crooked footed, tongue-tied little girl feel special. I believe Granny made each of us feel that loved and special, even though there was a great bunch of us.

Nothing made me know I was loved quite like being drawn to Granny’s breast in a hug so deep I could almost feel her heart beating.  Granny’s love flowed into me through her sweet embrace and touched me to my soul. I knew I was loved deeply.

Granny and Pa’s legacy lives on. Recently, one of my Crowe cousins hosted a family Christmas party. I was excited to see pictures of the event via Facebook. I marveled at the number of people attending the party and the smiles on their faces as they enjoyed being together as a family during the holidays, just like we loved going to Granny and Pa’s on Saturdays. Those pictures reminded me of how Granny left an unshakeable legacy of love in the heart of more than one little, brown-eyed girl.

 

Best-laid Christmas Plans Derailed

Best-laid Christmas Plans Derailed by Family Illness

The best-laid Christmas plans derailed due to unexpected family illness. While on chemotherapy, I maintain a quiet, sequestered life to protect me from the risk of infection. Once I realized my chemo schedule would leave me free the entire week of Christmas, I made plans with family to spend the week at my elder sister’s home and go across town to my parents’ home for various activities, including gift opening and Christmas dinner. I anticipated this special time to enjoy with my loved ones. Little did I know a severe, highly contagious virus would sweep through the household, resulting in our best-laid Christmas plans derailed.

Best-laid Christmas Plans Derailed

Annual Tradition of Admiring Christmas Light Displays Was Missing a Few Important People

Early in the week, it became apparent that sickness had hit my parents’ house. First one, and then another fell ill with a nasty respiratory virus, making it imprudent for me to be in close contact with my dear family. Thankfully, my sister’s family across town remained healthy, so I stayed nearby with the hope that the virus would pass quickly.

 

We had also all joined in a family meeting using Skype early in the week, so I began to think about Skyping with one sister who could not be with us for Christmas for gift opening. It seemed to be the next best thing to being there.

As Christmas dawned, family members were still ill, making it impossible for me safely join them for our planned celebration. So, we cooked dinner in separate kitchens across town, transported dishes for Christmas dinner and gifts, and then logged into Skype so that we could watch as gifts were passed around and opened.

Although I did not get the hugs I normally enjoy while home to visit, amazingly, the joy of Christmas surrounded us and we were able to watch via Skype as each one peeled back wrapping paper of carefully selected gifts. Skyping made us slow down and focus on each individual family member, appreciating the joy of receiving a well chosen gift and the resulting gratitude expressed. And, we sent one another air hugs and other expressions of love through cyberspace.

While we had seen our best-laid Christmas plans derailed, we still savored a delicious, potluck home-cooked Christmas dinner and celebrated this special time together through the miracle of modern technology.

Losing Hair on Chemo

When I first met with the oncologist about my impending chemotherapy regimen, he told me that most people do not lose their hair on this chemotherapy. Only about 15% would tend to bald. He emphasized that my chemo is a medium sort of chemo, which would not be too onerous. Unfortunately, several weeks ago I noticed I was losing hair on chemo.

All of a sudden, my hair started ending up in my mouth, in my food, all over my clothes and the floor. It was coming out in my comb and brush, lining the sink and the tub whenever I was near. Even the dust bunnies that accumulate on my hardwood floors are now somewhat blonde like me.

Since my oncologist had assured me I would not lose my hair, I was alarmed thinking that I was going to be bald. This was not supposed to happen to me! I was not supposed to be losing hair on chemo. Chagrined by my vanity, I felt doubly grieved: first, for losing hair on chemo and second, for feeling so mournful about my hair loss.

One day, I awoke with such terrible bed head that I had to rejoice that I still had enough hair to support this amazingly, ratted mess. The silliness of my appearance and the sheer volume reassured me. And, after all, hair grows back, and thankfully mine normally grows quickly.

As my hair continues to thin, admittedly I still struggle with how cancer and chemo have changed my life. I wasn’t supposed to be losing hair on chemo, but in my imagined version of my life, I wasn’t supposed to have an aggressive, fast growing cancer before I turned 50. I wasn’t supposed to have a port infection, either.  Perhaps finding myself the exception to these medical statistics should make me feel exceptional, a stand out from the crowd. Still, I would settle for not being such a medical exception, unless it is to never have cancer again–in spite of the statistics.

 

Losing Hair on Chemo

Is that really my hair?!?

 

What Should Go in My Chemo Bag

 

Soon after receiving the news that I would benefit from chemotherapy, I began to research chemo and learned I could make the cancer detour easier on myself if I learned what should go in my chemo bag.

I found numerous posts on Pinterest about chemo bags. So, with the help of my family, I put together the biggest chemo bag I have seen in the chemo infusion room. Each chemo bag is unique to the patient, but there are certain things I have found help make time in the infusion room more pleasant.

My Chemo Bag Essentials

Family members have contributed to my bag. Because I get cold in the chemo room, I take a fleece blanket that my mother made me to keep me warm. Coffee Beans, the Build-a-Bear my youngest niece made me, keeps me company and has come close to celebrity  status in the infusion room. Comfy, red sequined slippers from one sister keep my toes warm and pillowed. Encouraging words on smooth stones from my oldest sister and a friend remind me to have hope and to just breathe.

A few other things I include are reading material, music, snacks (especially saltine crackers for nausea and hard candy to mask the taste of saline when the port is being flushed or disagreeable medications start flowing) or a healthy lunch. I also take a journal and pen, art supplies to draw or color, hand wipes and sanitizer, and a mask so that I can go to sleep when the meds start to make me sleepy.

If you are wondering, “What should go in my chemo bag?” or have a friend asking that question, then I hope you find some of my thoughts helpful. Many have shared suggestions for how to prepare for chemo so you can easily find resources to support your loved one or yourself on your cancer detour. These resources have shaped how I decided what should go in my chemo bag. If you are on Pinterest, you may check out my  Cancer and Chemo Board for some ideas I have found helpful.

What Should Go in My Chemo Bag

Coffee Beans, the Build-a-Bear my youngest niece made me.

Other Chemo Essentials

Two things I always try to take to chemo do not fit in my bag: a positive attitude and a smile for the courageous patients around me; the compassionate caretakers who do all they can to help me to be well; and kind, efficient office staff who ensure my care runs smoothly. I believe those two things might be the most important of all.

 

Unexpected Cancer Detour: Hijacked Once Again

When I began writing My Hijacked Life, I had no idea that an unexpected cancer detour was just ahead.

About the time I left off blogging last year, I had begun to lose my appetite and consequently, lose weight. Along with that, I would often have cold hands, heart palpitations, and I lacked energy. These signs were so subtle that I didn’t think much about them indicating that something was wrong. In fact, the unexplained 20 pound weight loss for someone who has been weight conscious for an entire lifetime, was a great boon. Since I was experiencing extreme stress at work and at home, I simply attributed the weight loss to life’s turmoil and pressure.

As 2015 dawned, I faced some health challenges. At the end of May, I contracted a virus that should have gone away in a matter of days, but stayed a full two weeks. Summer vacation began, but instead of staying up all night catching up on reading and or having movie marathons, I was going to bed at 9 p.m.

At the beginning of July, my mother and I took a once in a lifetime trip to Europe. Unbelievably, I was sick and tired the entire time, even as I was trying to fit in everything on my must see and do list.

Again stateside, I visited my primary care physician who told me it could take a month or so to get things under control, so I assumed everything was good.

Meanwhile, I began to ready things for the school year and in spite of flagging energy, I had things all set for the students’ arrival on the first day of school.

Just before classes started, a specialist ran a broad blood panel after I described symptoms I had been experiencing. The results showed I was extremely anemic.  After teaching only one day, I was sent to another specialist who recommended immediate hospitalization for blood transfusions in preparation for tests to identify the cause of my blood loss.

Diagnostic tests revealed a cancerous tumor, so the same evening I had a CT scan before having surgery early the next morning. An experienced surgeon removed the tumor, leaving clean margins. Tests showed the lymph nodes and liver were clear, which was welcome news.

The recommended oncologist ordered additional tests to determine whether or not I required chemotherapy. After an excruciating three weeks, I sat flanked by family as the oncologist told me that I would need chemo: Another curve in my unexpected cancer detour.

I prepared to be off work for six months. Dutifully, I  got my flu shot and had my teeth cleaned as recommended before starting chemo. On the Friday evening before starting chemo, after teaching all day, I returned to the hospital where my skilled surgeon installed a mediport that would enable me to receive chemo. On Saturday, I visited a local historical landmark with a friend. Sunday, I went to church and made lesson plans. Then, on Monday I was back at school for my last day with my students.

Before I knew it, I was sitting in a large chair with a tube connected to the mediport in my shoulder having various cancer fighting substances pumped through my body. I looked across the room at a lady who said, “You are too young to be going through this.” I wholeheartedly agree. Often, I seem to be the youngest person in the infusion room. So, to say my unexpected cancer detour has been surreal would be an understatement.

Life altering. Overwhelming. Redefining. A new normal. My very own B.C.: Before Cancer. Any of those might do.

I can be walking down a hallway and that truth suddenly flashes in my mind, my stomach lurches, and I nearly miss a step because that is the new me. I have had cancer. Hopefully my unexpected cancer detour will soon be in my past, not my future, but only time will tell.

While the events leading up to my unexpected cancer detour are indelibly etched in my memory, I can’t see the future quite as easily. I do not know what my life’s new normal will be, how I should plan, or exactly how this detour will shape me. Should I quit my job and travel the world using up my retirement or should I work for a few more years to maximize payouts in my twilight years? While the truth is that nobody knows what the future holds, that reality is painfully clear to me.

My oncologist tells me that chemo is a temporary life alteration, but this I know: for good or for ill, I am not the same and will never be the person I was B.C.: before my unexpected cancer detour.

Once again, my life has been hijacked.

What Makes Elementary Science so Exciting

What Makes Elementary Science so Exciting

Teaching elementary science is one of the rewards of teaching primary grade students. What makes elementary science so exciting is that I have the privilege of introducing students to how to observe their world and how they can learn from their observations.

Year after year, I am surprised and elated to see how excited students become when we begin to study matter and how matter can change from one state to another. We jokingly talk about watching the grass grow as a euphemism for tedium. However for young learners, observations about their world and how to make sense of these observations in scientific ways in spellbinding and highly dramatic, while perhaps bordering on the monotonous for the more experienced observer. In out study of matter, some of our recent observations include watching ice melt, mixing salt with water,  and watching a balloon inflate.

While everyday occurrences for most of us, these simple acts demonstrate the transformation of solid to liquid, the constancy of solid when mixed with liquid, and that the invisible gas we call air will fill whatever container we force it into. One day, we even drew a chalk line around the perimeter of a large puddle on the playground and watched as the water receded from its chalky border and the wind hastened its evaporation. Each recess, students ran to the puddle to see how much smaller it had become. After our extended drought, how wonderful to have some rain filled puddles and then a sunny break to watch Mother Nature work her evaporative miracle.

One of our more dramatic science projects in our study of matter are include dropping baking soda from a balloon placed over the mouth of a water bottle into the pool of vinegar in the bottom of the bottle. The resulting bubbling gas filled first the bottle and then the balloon–beyond the bursting point–accompanied bysqueals of excitement and awe. Truly an exciting and unforgettable moment.

Another scientific favorite was placing an “empty” 1.5 liter bottle with a balloon covered mouth into a container of hot water. While I call the bottle empty, one of the most important concepts my teaching partner and I have tried to demonstrate to students is that gas is all around us and even though we cannot see it, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t fill cups, bottles, and the space that surrounds us. Students were spellbound to watch the balloon inflate quickly when placed in the hot water and slowly deflate when take out. The process was accelerated by moving the bottle quickly from the container of hot water into a container of cold tap water. Sounds of delight came from all around the classroom as students observed repeatedly the same phenomenon.

What Makes Elementary Science so Exciting

What Makes Elementary Science so Exciting Is the Students’ Joy and Wonder

A joyful experiment was what makes a simple kite fly. Each student made their own kite and attempted to make it take flight. There were varying degrees of success, but the mystery of flight held them spellbound.

Some days when I use my microwave, it is kind of like those simple elementary science experiments. As I was wiping out food cooked to the exploding point, I found myself mulling over the elementary science of why and wishing I had taken some simple steps to contain the explosion more effectively and minimize my unpleasant cleanup task. Still, I suppose my wonder over the “why” and “what would happen if” over my dreary domestic disaster means that along with my young students, I love observing the world around me and trying to figure out what makes it tick. That is what makes elementary science so exciting.

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