Moving Day Week!

So, moving day pretty much went as expected.  I get a call on Sunday at 4:00 PM from the apartment complex, explaining our carpets will not be dry until 3:30 PM the next day and can we move in then?  Um...NO!  We hired a moving company since we're "old" so, that was not happening.  I did, however, ask them to go over in the morning and turn on all the fans, including the A/C fan in hopes it would dry the carpets.  It did.  I also called our mover at 8 AM to see if we could postpone our move by a couple of hours.  They did.  So, it did, in the end, work out.  WHEW!

As I did a quick walk through (very quick) I found I missed several items that are problematic.  Garbage disposal not working, fridge missing the shelves over the produce bins, bleach container in washer falls out, oven not working...all things you would not typically find until you need to use them.  And so, we have a running list.  I will say the management company has been doing their best to keep up with our list of demands.  But, these are glitches

We worked the remainder of the week -- myself, Tuesday through Friday and my husband, Wednesday through Friday.  Then yesterday, we worked like no other.  We unpacked roughly half of our boxes, (and I swear, he has at least 4 boxes of wine -- his non-negotiables for throw aways) while I have at least 5 boxes of family photos (my non-negotiables).  They are all sitting in the floors of closets.  If I ever take up scrapbooking, the albums will fill at least 1 room, floor to ceiling.  If we ever take up drinking, we're set, pretty much for the next couple of years.

As we are unpacking yesterday, we did take time to go purchase some dishes (Corelle -- which has jumped to a price not even I can believe!), much needed bath mats, towels, bedding and a new Christmas tree. (just step high when walking over that 4 foot long box!)  Yes, we needed an extra box, just in case we didn't have enough.

BUT -- now, here's the best part of moving -- for "realsies".  Downsizing means it is waaaay easier to clean this place.  We got rid of enough stuff to where we actually do have enough space for everything (rather than holding all the 'extras' in the 3rd garage bay).  Most of all, this is becoming "our home".  You see, although my husband owned a beautiful house, it was always, in my mind --  "his" house.  Not 'our' house.  And yes, this is an apartment...but it is "our" place.  I didn't really realize the difference until we really started to get settled.  And then it was there...comfort and peace.  The feeling I had when I moved into my first apartment. 

My favorite spot is still in my $5 garage sale find...an old recliner as well as the patio.  I love being outdoors enjoying my coffee in the sunshine.  We may have moved but some things will never change. 

My Oola Journey: From Fat to Fabulous

How many of you have tried diet after diet with promises of becoming thin?  Only to fail a month or two or three down the road?  Yes, I too was one of those yo-yo dieters.  Now what if I shared with you that there is a better way? What if I told you that it wasn't you that failed but the plan?  That's right...the plan!

I began a new journey just over a month ago.  I tried a product I never thought I would use and I did it because I was at the point where I was considering surgery.  Yes -- gastric bypass.  I had gained 10 pounds due to foot surgery and ate my way up another ten pounds. 

I then saw a friend on Facebook had gotten really buff.  Age 47 and looking great.  I asked him how he did it, and he told me.  I must confess, I was skeptical.  Really now!!  Then, he bombarded me with before and after photos of other people who had used the program.  It reminded me of the old comic books in the 1960's when the skinny kid got sand kicked in his face by the buff bully.  Then the skinny kid gets buff and goes after the bully.  Point well taken especially when fat is the bully.

And so, I purchased the products with the mindset, if it doesn't work, there is always surgery.  My friend told me to trust the process no matter what.  I did.  I didn't work out and the first month I lost 10+ pounds and 31.5 inches.  Say WHAAAAT?  You heard me.  31.5 inches.  I was shocked.

That week-end, I went shopping.  I tried on smaller sizes to see how much more I had to go to fit into them.  I didn't have to wait long...they fit!  I was down three pants sizes!  I am not hungry on this plan, people tell me my face is glowing and I am beyond ecstatic at the results.

SO...if this sounds like something you can live with and need help with, please contact me on FB at Lisa Lehr Lucero.  Private message me and I will make sure you get a program that works...for you!!

Hold Everything!

Last week-end I worked like a fiend...cleaning out the garage, tossing endless items ruthlessly, befriending other building occupants -- a family of crickets that I swear stalked me all week-end and seemed to jump for joy every time they saw me -- and selling/giving away furniture.  And then, Sunday night, it hit...chills, fever, headache, body aches....I don't know what it was but it seemed to be a message from God.  STOP.  SLOW DOWN.  BE STILL.

I must confess, He got my attention!  I have not been that sick in several years -- certainly not running a fever sick.  I stopped.  I slept.  I stayed in bed a requisite minimum of days as I had work to get back to...I went back on Wednesday, still feeling crappy but I had IEP"s to write, students to teach, and work that had laid untouched for two days.

Thursday came...a long day as we have an hour and a half of meetings after work (a trade off for a week off at Thanksgiving).  Although I frequently find myself questioning that trade-off, the week of Thanksgiving is a blessed time and will be more so this year as we will be moving.  I stayed until about 5 PM trying to catch up the two days I missed in paperwork.

Friday -- oh sweet Jesus!  How happy I was to see Friday!  I was completely exhausted, even though I had only worked three days.  I don't think I have been that tired the entire school year, struggling to keep my eyes open.  My last period of the day was prep.  I had planned to assess a student for his IEP but he had other plans.  Refusal.  Hmmmm, could I force  a student to take an assessment?  Probably not.  We called home and although mom was encouraging, he still refused.  I convinced him to do the reading portion and I would get the other information some other way.  Afterwards, we talked.  Just talked about his IEP -- what it is, why he has it, what he wants to do when he finishes high school.  He talked about maybe he  needs to get rid of his lazy attitude.  I told him it won't serve him well in the "real" world.   It actually was a nice way to end the afternoon.  I got to know him a little better and he, I.  

You know, some weeks, things just don't go as you plan.  I had to cancel an IEP meeting, didn't get to assess a student and found myself in bed for three days and wishing I could go back to bed another three days.  Today is Saturday and I am relaxing, save for cleaning out the guest bathroom and ridding it of things we will not be taking with us.  It's a small step but will get us one step closer to moving.  I will have felt somewhat productive.  After a week of sickness and exhaustion, it is nice to just sit, have a cup of coffee and reflect.  Sometimes God just likes to remind us -- He's there and He's in control.  "Be still and know that I AM God." Psalm 46:10

The Purge -- Part 3

It is one month before my husband and I move into a 2 bedroom apartment and although exciting for us (ie:  no more homeowner worries), it is a major project to downsize.  You see, he came from a large house in California and never quite went through everything in his garage.  As for me, I arrived and have added my own junk -- making this the third time I have had a major purge in the 9 years since I left St. Louis.  You'd think I'd be an old pro at this, but apparently not.  You see, sentimentality factors in, taking one from homeowner to hoarder.

Here's the problem.  In looking at the new apartment, there is one teeny, tiny closet for storage...period.  I have checked storage units and frankly, IMHO not worth the $85/month they want to preserve our beloved items.  I doubt I will ever move back to a house unless of course, I win the lottery.  And so, the Purge --Part 3 begins.

I will say this;  I have become absolutely ruthless.  Elementary teaching stuff?  Gone.  You can get most  things online anyhow.   My beloved Christmas tree?  Sold (only because I know it won't fit).  Leather couches, washer and dryer and fridge -- also for sale.  Exercise bike?  No need for one...gym onsite.  And so, as I go out to the garage -- aside from a family of crickets that is stalking me -- it is like Christmas everyday.  I have no idea what are in the boxes as my husband packed up everything from my condo when I moved (God bless him).  As for his stuff, he too has quite the "stash" as well.  I am going through everything with the eye of "when I die, what will our kids do with this?"  Most likely, trash it anyhow.

I have found that if you list something for free on Facebook, you will get at least 65 messages, of which half will say -- what condition is it in?  Lady -- it's 50 year old furniture...what do you think?  Or, do you deliver?  Ummmm....that would be a no.  Or my favorite...does it work?  It's been in the garage for a year -- how the hell would I know?  I'm asking $40 for a 10 foot pre-lit Christmas tree that we used the year before.  However, it's been stored for a year.  At that price, you take your chances.

And so, today I go back out to the garage to clean some more.  I am tired and know already that these next four weeks will be a challenge.  I had a trip planned to see my grandkids but now that is on hold as I realize there is still much to do ...such as pack up what we ARE taking and possibly hold a garage sale for the smaller treasure we no longer want.

In the meantime, my nails look like crap, I haven't showered in 2 days and I want to sleep.  I did manage to get a haircut in there but that's out of pure necessity.  I am putting in the hours and know that when we get to our new place, it will take far less time to unpack than it did to get ready to move.  In some small way, there is something freeing about going through all your crap.  Yes, it is a lifetime of "things" but I've found that's not what's important....it's about the memories and enjoying the here and now.

And so, the Purge continues this week-end and next.  I hope to have it all done by then.  There are perhaps 40 boxes left in the garage.  The following week-end, we should be ready to pack up most everything else.  It is a holiday week-end and will give us an extra day to get it done.  Then,  moving 2 weeks later.  Yes, I do have a timeline.  Albeit, a loose one -- but then again, you do what you gotta do!  Purge, baby, purge!

#PrayforLasVegas

Genesis 50:20  "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives."


I woke up Monday morning to a plethora of Instagram and Facebook posts that said "Pray for Las Vegas."  I immediately turned on the news to find out the devastation that had occurred on the Strip.  And then, I was expected to go to work and carry on with strength.  Several people I know had friends and family who had died or were taken to area hospitals for treatment.  There are no words to express what I am feeling for Sunday's shooting in Las Vegas.   Shock.  Disbelief.  Sadness.

What do you say to students who spend their first 80 minutes of the day in utter silence as you yourself try to comprehend the events of the night before?  During our last period, one of our students asked about the events.  And so, the dialogue began.  I listened as my co-teacher rattled off what the news reports had said.  All I could think about was, there is always light in the darkness.  And so, as the conversation began waning 45 minutes later, I said it.  I made the faith move.  I said, "In the darkness, there is always light.  Look for that...look at the first-responders who helped get those people out of the area...the EMT's, the doctors and nurses, police officers, people who helped others get out..." I could barely get the words out.  One of our students began crying.  Her aunt had died in the attack.  What I wanted to say is, "God is there...God is in the midst.  Know that He is with those who need comfort." And yet, we are in a school setting.  We can't say what we'd like.  Separation of church and state, don'tcha know?  And so, we dance around the whole idea that there is a God and He is in control.

The next day, after watching a few news channels, I was even more devastated.  I didn't know anyone personally who was injured but knew people who had lost family members or have them in the hospital recovering.  Grief and sadness set in.  The kids seemed to be recovering but I was just coming out of the shock of that first day.  I continued to teach, although the day seemed even longer.  Talk was no longer about the events of Sunday evening.  Somehow, the tone had shifted -- just like the literature we study.

It is now nearly a week later.  We are learning more about the events of that day;  the pictures of the victims are being released, news about the shooter and his girlfriend; all juxtaposed with the news stories of the day.  It is beginning to take a back seat to bigger news.

And then, prayer vigils by local churches.  Yesterday, I got a flyer in my school mailbox.  Donations are being sought by our student council and other school groups for the victims of the hurricanes as well as Vegas.  Water, batteries, diapers, antibiotic ointment...a list that is somewhat conservative but filled with life-giving resources.  My heart is filled.  Where is God in the midst of this and other tragedies?  He is in the hearts of mankind.  You see, there IS light in the darkness.  Anyone can be that light -- they just need to think...what can I do?  Then, what can WE do?  How can WE help?  Whether it's donating items or donating blood .... it is about spreading God's love.  Showing we care.  Kindness.  Hope.  Encouragement.  Love.  We are the body of Christ...the hands, the feet, the eyes, the ears, the mouth....As followers, we are called to serve.

And so, today I am able to write.  To verbalize what I have been feeling.  Tragic, yes.  But if we work as a community, we will see the light in the darkness.  God is in the midst.  He always is.

Mandisa "Stronger"
https://youtu.be/emgv-VRtMEU


Danny Gokey "Hope in Front of Me"
https://youtu.be/O5GFiDdGGGM

Suicide

The past few months, we have seen headlines about celebrities taking their own lives.  Yesterday, I was reminded of my own father's suicide.  I felt it when talking with a student.

I had a sense (call me an empath) that something was going on with this student.  Answers to my questions rang in my head to memories of my own dad's suicide.  Yesterday, she told me she was moving and going to a new school.  She handed me paperwork for her IEP which was signed.  I asked her, "What about your IEP?"  She told me, "They'll do it at the new school".   I gave her a hug and said I hoped she'd feel better (as I had heard rumors things were not good with her).   I took the paperwork she handed me.  The bell had rung and so, I had to get to my class.  

Her answers didn't sound right to me and bothered me during that class.  Why give me the paperwork?  About halfway through class, I checked them.  They were signed by the parents saying they would attend the mid-October meeting.  It didn't add up.  Much like my dad's words did the night he took his own life.

I wrote my supervisor who told me she was in attendance.  I paid a trip to the counselor.  I showed him the paperwork.  He said he would talk to her.  I watched attendance all day and she remained in school.  Monday she is supposed to be in my class.  I hope that she is.

You see, when you have lived through someone taking their own life, you become hyper-vigilant to those around you.  Myself, I had suicidal ideations after my divorce because of my debt.  I had an old prescription of Xanax with maybe 100+ pills in it.  Every night, I wrestled with myself. Yet,  I couldn't  bring myself to throw those pills away, nor could I tell anyone as I knew I would be hospitalized and I needed to work to keep a roof over my head and my boys' heads.

I know what darkness and despair feels like.  And yet, despite my sorrow and guilt I felt after my dad's suicide, it is probably what kept me alive.  After his death, there were a million unanswered questions.  I didn't want my own children to go through that.  Eventually, I threw the pills away but it was more than a year later.

And so, if you have any questions about why someone is saying something...talk with them.  You never know what they are thinking.  And if they have wrestled with suicide and are suddenly happy, don't think their depression is over.  It may just mean they have made the decision to do it.

I write this piece for all the teachers who say, "It's none of my business."  I write it for those who have contemplated it.  I write it for those who may contemplate it.  Most of all, I write it for those who have gone through it with a friend or relative.  It is probably one of the hardest things to heal from -- yet, our experiences can be used to help others find their way.  If you suspect someone may be having suicidal ideations, get them help.  You may be their only lifeline.

Love

What is love?  Is it the passion we feel when we are in the arms of another? Holding hands?  Hugs?  Cleaning the house?  Or is it something deeper than that?   I am blown away, quite frankly, by my husband's continued acts of love.

Let me take you back...2013.  Divorced, broke and deeply in debt.  2014.  Began dating.  Ah, love conquers all...or does it?  You see, the moment any man heard of my debt, they ran.  Like scared bunnies.  Not this one.  He hung around.  In fact, he actively pursued me.  Personally, I was just looking for a guy to have coffee with...a movie partner.  Nothing serious -- just, a friend.  But this guy, he was different.  He went all out for me.  Movie partner extraordinaire.

This past Labor Day, we talked about budgets.  We've talked about it on and off over the past year but this time he wanted to see my numbers.  We worked together.  His debt left over from his wife's illness at an early age (and no health insurance), cremation and move here.  Mine -- 200K left in student loans for 3 kids, ex-husband and myself.  Not pretty....I told him, if he sold his house and we moved to a two bedroom apartment (a huge sacrifice)  he could be completely out of debt and my debt could probably be knocked out in five years.  To be sure, I called all the student loan companies.  It was true.  My figures with us in an apartment were accurate.  And so, he decided to put his house up for sale.

It sold in five days, with us taking the first offer that was originally put out there.  I just know this is the perfect place for them.  And so, we are off on a new adventure.  In thirty days, his debt will be paid off completely.  Two credit cards will be cut up with one for emergencies.  We should even have a small savings for emergencies.

This, my friends, is love.  Although scary for him, he wants to do it.  He confessed this is the first time in his life he has never had an investment.  True.  But we will be living in a place that has racquetball courts, a game room, two swimming pools and a gym.  Granted, it's less privacy but it's also, in some ways, freeing.  Year-round resort living.  No major expenses to worry about such as the A/C needing to be replaced or the washer breaking down.

Today, I begin de-cluttering; a huge task since I never got through it when I moved here.  I figured we'd be here forever.  Truthfully, still no rush.  I have two months -- but it is time to begin.  What to do with our six Monopoly games, my collection for when the kids come?  Truth is, they haven't been to Vegas since 2010 or so.  I'm guessing with 8 grandchildren between them, it won't happen for awhile.  Now, the hard decisions (okay maybe not so hard) begin.

And so, to all of you men who ran away because you were not man enough to love someone left with  debt, I say, good riddance.  It is being there with someone through the hard times that matters.  That's when you reach out and hold on tight.  That's the kind of love you can't find in the movies. That's forever.

Blessings

Earthquakes.  Hurricanes.  Protests.  Nuclear launches.  What are we to think of all this?  I know I stopped watching the news long ago, but when Hurricane Irma was headed to Florida's coast, I had to turn it on.  I had far too many friends living there.

Lately, the song "Blessings" by Laura Story has been playing.  It was my "go to" song during my divorce.  I shed many a tear to it.  I think about all the people left behind by the death and devastation.  Many people cry out and say, "Where is God?" during all of this.

Truth be told, I believe he is right there; holding the hands of those left behind.  Many argue,  "He can't be found."  I completely disagree.  Think about the world events just before all of this.  Arguing, name-calling, hate.

Then, something happened.  A storm.  People came out to help others.  Stories of help began to take over the news.  In spite of all the death and destruction, there was a light in the darkness.  Hope.  Love. Healing.  A chance to start over.

I believe God is speaking to us.  He does it daily but this is our wake-up call.  It is time to start focusing on the positive.  It is time to love others -- even those who don't "fit the mold".  God created us in His image.  We are ALL his masterpiece.

Love.  Give.  Help.  Pray.

I hope this gives you a sense of Hope. Healing. Encouragement.

Go out and be reminded that you too can be a blessing.


link to "Blessings" by Laura Story

https://youtu.be/XQan9L3yXjc

Following Your Dreams

How many of you are in jobs you hate...like dread waking up in the morning?  But for the fact you are getting paid, you would be out of there in a heartbeat?  Yeah, me too!  Not that I hate my job.  In fact, I'm probably one of the few who actually like what I do.  But I dream of being able to sit on my (imaginary) deck in from of my (imaginary) lakefront house, writing.  Oh and yes, the e-mails are burning up with offers to speak.

So, here's the deal.  I see this.  More and more each day.  It is almost like a vision.  I can see myself writing and speaking -- in my mind's eye.  So, how do I get myself there?  And am I just imagining all this or is it really possible?  How does one know?

First of all, my desire for speaking was imparted to me when I was in high school.  I don't particularly like a small group -- I will go the distance -- big groups.  It doesn't scare me.  No...really!  I majored in Communications in college and all we did was give speeches.  I have what it takes -- as long as I have a topic and inspiration.

So, I've spent some time thinking about this.  Praying.  Let's face it...those who've read my blog know that I have zero capital in which to invest into anything that costs much.  I've considered administration but after several years of schooling, I would really be too old to use it.

And so, my choices are now narrowed down to reiki healing or life coaching.  Reiki healing is done by harnessing energy.  I love the idea of helping others and having my essential oils diffusing in the background.  Very soothing, even for myself.

When I suggested I wanted to be a life coach to my husband and daughter they both laughed....heartily! Seriously?  Are you freaking kidding me?  After all I have been through and come out on the other side?...Okay, well almost.  Yes, there are still some areas of life I struggle with -- financial -- which, let's face it....being left with 200K in debt is going to take some time to overcome and fitness ...the bane of my existence.  But for the fact I'm not 6' tall, I would indeed be the proper proportions.  But I digress.

So, I do have a plan which I am no longer sharing.  There are too many dream stealers out there.  We all have enough negative thoughts that stop us from being the best we can...and so, I am going this course alone.  I will probably share with my life coaches but that's about it.  For now, I know it takes courage to step out into this journey.  It's a new one.  A course correction.  Dream...then, throw out that dream and dream bigger.  It's what keeps our souls alive.

#TGIF

Whoo hoo!   We made it!  All of us teachers have managed to get one week down.  We have what?  Only thirty-four more?  Not that I'm counting or anything.

This is my eighth year of teaching (nine, if you count the year I did overseas...uncertified).  Each day something new happens.  This year, I noticed something about myself.  I'm not as nice.  That's right kids...I am not the sweet, lovable lady you knew...I am now enforcing rules -- BIG TIME!

What brought on this sudden change?  Why am I suddenly willing to take away cell phones from kids who are texting or make them put away their ear buds in.their.pockets....not dangling from their ears or shirts?  What transpired this summer?  I'll tell you what...nothing.  Absolutely nothing.

The truth is, the longer you teach, the more you realize classroom management is a necessity.  It is survival of the fittest -- and I guarantee you -- the battle lines are drawn.  We are not going to haggle or make deals.  I am not going to smile and pretend I didn't hear the cursing under the breath or that I didn't see the rolling eyes.  This year, my health -- my sanity -- comes first.  And if I have to be "one of 'THOSE' teachers" in order to meet this goal, so be it.

Now, I don't want to say I'm totally unreasonable.  For instance, when I called out a kid for talking about my "big boobs", I did give him the benefit of the doubt.  He pretty much could've sold it to me if he hadn't said he was saying, "big boots".  Yeah, sure.  I have survived teenagers and their thinking is just ridiculous at times.  Especially after he had already apologized for disrespecting me.  In any case, he now knows that if I walk past and hear anything I deem derogatory or on the order of sexual harassment, he will no longer have the benefit of the doubt.  It's a done deal for him.  Or the two who came in horsing around this morning.  Progressive discipline has started.  1.  warning  2.  talked to in the hallway  3.  phone call home  4.  detention  5.  referral to dean  Unless, of course, it is something major, like the kid who told me he was going to the restroom -- left with his backpack and never came back.  Guess what?  No one leaves with a backpack anymore!

The other thing that made me realize that classroom management needs to change?  I have two students who have come back to me.  Now, 90%+ of my special education students did pass English last year and kudos to them!  I am exceptionally proud of them.  BUT, for the two that came back, I realize that in some way we failed them.  Not just literally but figuratively as well.  And so, one of my kiddos, I told him the first day of school, I do not want to see him next year.  Period.  He has already gone a round or two with the co-teacher but I told him today, "I will help you in any way possible in order for you to pass."  You see, he is completely capable, smart and I might add, has leadership qualities.  (If only he'd use his powers for good instead of evil!)  Last year, I challenged him to turn his life around and become a teacher.  Now, I don't know if he is taking me up on this challenge, but I do know he wrote in his journal the past two class periods and did his work today.  That is more work than he did all of last year.  Perhaps he's just maturing.  Maybe he took my words to heart.  I don't know.  But it definitely made.my.day.

And so, cheers to all of my fellow teachers.  I know I am off to a great start.  I got a lot of work done this week, even though all I could think about is next summer and heading back to Coronado Island (my happy place!)  Who knows?  I may even make it to Hawaii!  For now, reality has set in.  Waking up at 5 AM and being cheerful by 7:40 AM.  Trust me -- that takes work on my part! For now, I am just hoping my students will pass and more importantly graduate.  Yes, it's Friday.  Time to close down the brain for two days and relax.  Then do it all again next week.  What can I tell you?  It's the life of a teacher.

Say What????

This blog is not about me.  It is about my daughter.  I have asked permission to share thoughts, feelings, etc regarding her transition from male to female.  You see, she is transgender.  I have written on another blog about my learning she is transgender.  Today, I want to write about the day-to-day.

The other day, she posted a pic of herself on Instagram.  She has only had hormone therapy so far -- surgery, at this point, is far too expensive.  And so, she does what she needs to do.  Her first order of business, she has told me, is to have laser work on her face.  Again, a pricey proposition for a college student working two jobs to survive.  I have no money to help and my credit stinks, so she will have to wait until she has her degree and a "real" job.  I wish I had the money -  I'd pay for it.  I really would.

We meet a couple of times a week.  As a college student, she comes here to do her laundry.  I make sure she has a meal, if she wants to join us.  She is a personal trainer, and so we (normally) workout together a couple of times a week.  She has more energy than I can account for...I certainly wasn't in as good of shape as she is at that age.  Her figure is changing due to the hormones.  She has 10 pounds left to lose.  As a male, she was short and somewhat muscular.  As a female, her stature and body type are darned near perfect.  Her hair is also very long...just past her shoulders.

So, how did we get to this point of not just acceptance but still loving one another through this time of transition?  It's called, being supportive.  She was indeed born with male genitalia but the truth of the matter is she never played rough like boys and she was always an extremely sensitive child.  I put her in martial arts at a young age so that she could defend herself against bullies.  Smart play...somehow, a mother senses these things.  She is now in Aikido and working toward her black belt.  She also teaches classes.  AND, when the bullies on our street did try to bother her in middle school -- she did not kick their ass -- rather, she kicked our front door in and THAT scared the crap out of them.  They never bothered her again!

I have to say, I did not accept her new life easily.  Transgender was not "out there" in the 1990's like it is today.  You can say all you want about Caitlyn Jenner, but she put this issue and acceptance on the radar.  Kudos to her!   Calling her by her now legal name and acknowledging that she was female at birth means the world to her.  When I am tired, I slip up.  The other night, after a long day at work, I said "Gentlemen, dinner is ready".  I then added, "and ladies!"  Yes, it is hard for a mother.  But she understands that after being in a male body for 25 years and female for 2, I am going to make these mistakes.  I try not to, but it happens.

How do I align my Christian beliefs with her transitioning?  Just fine, thank you.  You see, God looks at our hearts and not our bodies, IMHO.  And she has a GREAT heart.  She is closer to God than she has ever been.  He has been there for her as she goes through her emotional, physical and  financial struggles.  I always tell her when something unexpected happens, for her to "Thank God!"  You see, it doesn't matter if it's a good thing or a bad thing, "Thank God".  You are strong enough to handle whatever He gives you.

And so, the other day on my Instagram account, after she posted her pic - I stole it and posted how proud I was of her.  You see, it takes courage to be who you are -- to face people who hate you simply because of how you look.  Being true to one's self is desired in this country. Don't we always say, "Live up to your potential!"?  "Love yourself!"  If loving yourself means physically changing your outside self to match your inside self, more power to you!  It is not easy.  It is not fun!  It is necessary for some to not just survive, but thrive.

I have seen this caterpillar metamorphosis into a chrysalis.  She is working toward becoming her complete self...the butterfly she was meant to be.  One day, when she chooses to have surgery, she will.  For now, she is happy with who she is.  I am happy with who she is.  I couldn't be more proud or love my daughter more.  An easy life?  No.  A productive, stable life...yes!  That is what being a mother to a transgender child is like.

What Day is It?

I woke up this morning...sluggish...slow.  I can barely get my mojo on.  It IS the first Saturday after going back to work.  Let me tell you about work so far -- we have spent the last three days in meetings and getting our classrooms ready to meet our students.  It is not difficult work, yet for someone who has not been working for several weeks, it is killer.  You see, we just get into the summer schedule of lounging poolside, having lunches out with our friends, late nights and even later breakfasts and BAM!  Time to return to work.  This sluggish feeling will be gone in say, three weeks?  In the meantime, sleeping 11 hours on the week-end and drinking a pot of coffee in the morning is not unheard of at this time of year.

Yes, going back to work is definitely difficult for a teacher.  Now, all you naysayers out there are complaining and saying, "You ONLY work 6 months out of the year!"  True.  But those are a tough 6 months.  Seriously.  In our line of work, our authority is constantly undermined and challenged.  We work countless hours planning and preparing lesson plans.  We are "on" 7 hours per day.  We cannot take a break for water, coffee or to even pee.  And it can be VERY intense, especially with class sizes of 36+, which is the majority of my classes this year.

As a special educator, our job is even more intense, as we need to make sure that schedules match student IEP's.  We need to check confidential folders.  We test students, write up IEP's (and from the looks of it, we will have a LOT this year -- I'm guessing 27 or more), schedule meetings, send out notices (sometimes in English and Spanish -- thank God for GoogleTranslate), coordinate who is coming to the meetings, make sure the school psychologist and school nurse are in the loop, hold the meetings, close the documents and write implementation documents after the meeting is held and mail everything to the parents.  Then, file and document everything.  Sound like a lot?  It most certainly is!

This year, we have learned that student achievement on the End of Course exams count for 20% of our evaluation.  Next year and forward, it is 40%.  So, for our ELL and special education teachers, it should be interesting.  I am curious as to what my evaluation will look like in two years.  I'm not sure student achievement on testing is the way to evaluate our performance.  Do we want to teach to the test or do we just want our kids to learn?  I am getting to the point where I am wondering if all this is worth it?

Right now, it is worth it.  Why?  Because I want these kids to understand that their self-worth is more than the size of their wallet.  I want them to understand that bad things do happen to good people and you can survive.  I want them to know that there are people who care about them - just because.  I want them to know that they can be more than they were taught to believe...they can overcome their circumstances.  It is not easy but it is doable.  I want them to know that "what the mind believes it can achieve."  Great people are not born -- they learn and grow from their mistakes.  They move past them.  They can do it.  Right now, I am their greatest cheerleader.  I will remain so until the end of my teaching career.  

I'm on my third cup of coffee and I can barely open my eyes.  Is it worth it? Hell yeah!  This year, I will be at the graduation of my students from last year.  It is an honor and I can't wait to see them with their diplomas.  On Monday, school is in session.  Bring it on...I.Am.Ready!

Old and Sassy

This morning I woke up with sarcasm just rolling off my lips.  Quick to quip, my husband decided I needed a caffeine fix.  He was right.

You see, last Friday I had surgery and I've been pent up on our couch ever since.  Yesterday, was the first time I escaped our home in five days.  What a relief.  There are only so many, "My Great American Gypsy Wedding" shows you can watch before your mind turns to jello.

When a doctor tells you a procedure is minor and you're in your 50's...don't believe them!  I can tell you, my recovery from this is slow and it annoys a cantankerous, old broad like me.  Although it is indeed minor to the 20 or 30 year old, at 50, it is just nonsense.  But for the pain that I was having in my foot, I would not have embarked on this journey.  I will be wearing a boot for the next month and am losing the last 2 weeks of my summer break.  Ice and pillows have become my bff's.

My first post-op drive was to the podiatrist.  Despite WHERE I was going, I was happy just to get out.   I took a sponge bath the night before and washed my hair in the sink...date night! Unfortunately, I left about half the shampoo in.  We're in monsoon season and I recognized immediately, this could be a potential disaster.  One heavy rain and there would be suds everywhere.  Fortunately, the sky merely remained cloudy (although I must confess, I would have liked to have seen that transformation!  Yes, I am easily entertained these days.)  

The podiatrist changed my bandage -- and I must say, he does fine handiwork.  I think the scar will be minimal.  However, with a bandage change, my foot has become far more flexible.  Enter pain.  UGH!  He ordered pain meds and I got a call from the pharmacy as I was checking out of his office -- my insurance refused to pay for the pain meds he prescribed -- $86.00!  After talking to them for 10 minutes, he decided samples were the best way to go.  God.Bless.Him.

My husband and I decided to celebrate my being out by having dinner at our favorite local pub.  The familiar smell of cigarettes and beer hit my face the moment we hit the door.  We were greeted by our favorite waitress and ordered breakfast for dinner.  This was my first "real" meal post- surgery, as everything my husband cooked the past week has just made my stomach turn.  I have been on a heavy diet of toast and not much more.

Of course, that has made my waistline all the more "comfortable," as described by my husband.  Thank God for a man who loves a voluptuous woman 'cause he sure got one (and a half!)  After I got home and watched a Dr. Phil and several Judge Judy's, I realized I could no longer stand the feel of my hair.   The distinct feel of shampoo stickiness was more than I could bear. So, climbing onto a step-stool with my big, clunky boot and praying I would stay on the stool and not break my ass, I proceeded to first rinse (I was correct -- suds came rolling out) then, rewashing my hair.  Although it is now standing out in every direction, it does at least, feel clean.

I then decided I did not like my hair color.  No, I did not attempt this procedure myself (thank God!) but I did text my hairdresser until 9 PM with screenshots from Pinterest with suggestions for my next appointment.  I am actually choosing what I would deem a "normal" color, having spent the past year as gray, pink, platinum, red and burgundy.  I am slowly accepting that at 57, perhaps pink and purple are not the colors for me.  But, it is a relatively harmless change (except for the bald patches on my head!  Just kidding...)

And so, this morning, I am snarky.  I am going to see the movie Dunkirk later today and not sure how that will play out with my sarcasm in tow.  I am certain it will die down (no pun intended).  I'm not sure about watching a film of that intensity, having watched every reality show that no one could ever possibly want to see and then some.  I will probably cry.   Of course, I am starting to cry when I watch "Say Yes to the Dress" so it will actually be nice to cry to something of substance.

As my nausea from pain meds gears up, so must this blog die down.  It has been a fun, little diversion for the last 20 minutes.  I promised myself I would read but cannot seem to focus.  Must be the meds.  Maybe the pain or nausea.  In any case, I can tell you this much.  Getting old does give one certain advantages -- you can be as sassy as you like and no one will bat an eye.  I am thankful this nausea is from pain meds rather than pregnancy...a strong reminder that getting old is indeed a blessing!

Oola Goal Check Up

Picture of The Oola Bus -- some of my goals are on their VW bus.  The OolaGuys goal is to collect 1,000,000 dreams on that bus.  Changing the world with a word:  Oola

So, it is midyear since OolaPalooza 2016.  I vowed 2017 would be a great year and in many ways, it has been.  I have looked at my own "mini-surfboard" with my goals written on them several times over the last couple of weeks and realize, I need to get going on these...the final push!

My goals were the following:

Field -- mentor others in the area of finance
Faith -- mentor students to believe in themselves and achieve their goals
Finance -- add an extra $150/month toward my student loans
Friends -- look for mentors to meet up with regularly
Fitness--have a healthy BMI within 1 year and physically fit within 6 months
Family -- work toward a healthy marriage/relationship
Fun -- I didn't write anything; I think I decided I was having enough fun and added an extra fitness goal!!

So, how did I measure up so far?

Field:

I spent several months trying to put together a group for Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University.  Unfortunately, my home church was not interested.  I sort of gave up but now am pressing other places for that opportunity.  I cannot do this on my own as the kits for it need to be purchased ahead of time and I simply don't have the funds for that; I need a "backer".  However, the good news is I have been approved by Dave Ramsey's group to facilitate a class since spring.  I am still working on the logistics.  Hopefully, it will happen this fall.

Faith:
Met.  I mentored many students throughout the school year.  Of the many special education students that passed through room 203, 92% passed English 11 for the school year.  My goal was 60%.  I far surpassed my own expectations of what these students could do-- they rose and met the challenge to become the best they could be.

Finance:
This is interesting.  No, I did not add $150/month toward my student loans.  However, I found a company that is helping me sort through the financial quagmire I have been left with post-divorce.  Bottom line, it is slow and I will be debt-free in 10 years.  But considering where I started, I am happy I will be able to retire debt-free!  Additionally, my bankruptcy was discharged which removed close to $100,000 in debt.  Not the way to go for everyone but for me, it was a necessary evil.

Friends:
I have fallen short in the friends category.  Turns out, I am the mentor rather than the mentee (is there such a word?)  I have mentored teachers and students this past year but still looking for folks to help me out with regards to my goals.  I am still looking.  Volunteers?

Family:
I seem to have aced this category.  I went from "I don't ever want to get married" to "I do" in a period of 6 months.  There was a slight push...my fiance became ill and needed care.  FMLA does not allow unmarrieds to care for one another. And so, the wedding date was moved up.  Of course, the "I do" is the easy part.  It's the marriage that's the challenge!

Fitness:
Aaaah -- the bane of my existence.  My fitness goal.  Truth is, I have been exercising regularly with the help of my daughter who is a personal trainer.  It is a bit of a struggle as I do have a bad foot (for which I am having surgery later this month).  That will, sideline me about 4 weeks.  On the positive side, I am definitely stronger than I was.  My bat wings are disappearing.  With any luck, they will be gone by Halloween!   I also want to start yoga in the fall and some stress management techniques.  I truly suck at managing stress in my life (and unfortunately, it is simply a part of life).  Now for the bad news -- I weigh the same as I did six months ago.  I keep playing with the same 5 pounds.  My counselor did say that stress (again, managing it is not my strong suit) can affect weight loss.  And Lord knows, I've had my share.  However, I am hoping stress management and yoga will help me progress with this goal.

Fun:
Yeah, I'm good.  Weekly movies, dinner out, get-togethers with friends, a mini-vacay, and eloping with my honey (which frankly, was the most fun I've ever had in Vegas!)

And so, although not perfect, I am continuing to progress toward my goals.  No, I have not met them yet but am working systematically in my haphazard sort of way toward them.  I continue to seek balance and growth in the seven key areas of my life.  I watch my friends "knocking their goals outta the ballpark" while I am slow and steady.  They say, don't compare your journey to that of others.  I agree -- we all have completely different lives.  If I could change one thing, it would be to meet rather than improve in areas.  I need to work harder on THAT goal!  So, which category does that fit into?

Friends

There are friends and then, there are friends.  What do I mean by this?  I have a variety of friends that I sort of tend to categorize.  Admit it -- I bet you do the same thing...right?

First off, I have my BFF's.  I have more than one -- each knowing me so well, but also, offering different perspectives on life.  For instance, one I have known 50 years -- a lifetime.  She makes me laugh and we pick up where we leave off every time we get together.  Then, I have another BFF who has known me since my divorce.  This person has seen me through thick and thin, and knows how much I have grown.  Both of these people are folks I can count on no matter what the situation and they are completely non-judgmental.  We are of the same generation and share similar life stories.   We love each other dearly and would walk through fire for one another.

There are also friends that you meet and remain friends throughout life.  Mostly former neighbors who, although are still important, have walked a different journey than myself.  As time goes by, we do not stay in touch as much as we used to, but when we meet up, it is as if nothing has changed over the last twenty years.  They are people you can count on and love with all your heart.  We are bonded by our children and old memories; yet continue to make new ones.

Then, I have the friends I hang with on the day-to-day.  We go out to dinners together, coffees, lunches, have parties-- whatever.  We are a pack of older folks who just love each other's company.  We are always there for each other but our relationship tends to be deep on a different level.  We are, in a sense, a family.  All of us have relocated to Vegas for various reasons and have worked together at one time or another.  We are our own little support group.  We are a variety of generations.  Our journey in this strange place called Las Vegas allows us to bond on a whole different level.

I also have my mentors; people I have met in life through social media.  They offer support on life decisions.  They may not realize the impact they have on my life but they are each incredibly important.  They have supported me throughout my divorce and watched me soar to heights I never thought attainable.  They are also bold, to some degree, as to what is helpful to growing and what is not helpful for growing.   I may not always listen to them because my journey is different from theirs; but their advice is very much valued and contemplated.  We follow each others journeys and cheer one another on as we reach our goals.

Lastly, I have a group of friends who are important on the day-to-day.  They are my work colleagues.  Although we may "just" be lunch buddies and plan lessons together, there is a certain camaraderie.  We understand each other's joys and upsets in the classroom.  We laugh and relieve stress during the day.  We reach out to one another when we have a problem at home which may affect our performance as teachers.  We are, indelibly bonded by our work lives.

Everyone has friends.  We may have one lifelong friend, or we may have several friends we have accumulated through our many years of living.  Each has a special place in our heart.  Without these people in my life, I would not be the person I am today.  We are...friends.

Spiritual Sickness

2 Corinthians 12:9

Verse Concepts

And He has said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness " Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.

Today I went to lunch with some friends and we got on the subject of spiritual sickness.  It began when I confessed the anger I felt toward my ex-husband for leaving me in financial ruins.  One gal questioned why I was still angry and I said, because I am reminded each and every month of it as I pay the bills.  Fair enough.  She then asked me if my ex-husband was spiritually sound.  Was he?  Not during the period I knew him.  And so, therein lies my answer.

You see, when we are spiritually sick, it is just as if we have cancer or some other physical illness except it affects everything; decisions, relationships, beliefs, etc.  And, let's face it -- who among us is perfect?  I'm not!  If we each held a measuring stick from us to our Heavenly Father, how far short would we fall?  I dare say,  A LOT!

So what is spiritual sickness?  Spiritual sickness can manifest itself in many ways:  fear and anxiety (check), resentment, anger and blame (check), guilt, shame and remorse (check), irritability and chronic negativity (healed), addictive behaviors (check), apathy and listlessness (sometimes), physical symptoms such as headaches, stomach upsets, muscle tension and fatigue (check), inability to form healthy attachments (healed), depression (check), and soul loss by those who have suffered abuse or some sort of trauma (healed).  So, as I'm analyzing whether or not my ex has spiritual sickness, I see I too suffer from it to a great degree.  Me!  One who has an incredible amount of faith!   And yet, my faith is not enough...not yet.

And so, what do we do when we find we do indeed have some forms of spiritual sickness.  First, surrender yourself wholly and completely to God.  We are where He wants us to be and no matter what we do, at the end of the day, He is in control.  Oh, you have debt?  Yes, you can worry and stew about how many years it will take to pay it off or you can do your best and hand the rest over to Him.  After all, do we even know if we will be here tomorrow?  And how much of our joy is stolen from worry and upset?  THAT is exactly what Satan would love ...to steal our joy!  So, don't let him do it!  Hand your worries to God.

Additionally, pray -- pray that God will heal your hurts.  Turn over your life completely to Him.  He loves us more than anyone, so let His love blanket you and fill you with His peace.

Next, stay in God's word...Read the Bible daily.  If there are any inconsistencies in the way you live your life versus what God's Word says, then change the way you live.  There are no inconsistencies in His Word.  If you find you have questions, seek guidance from someone who is knowledgeable -- a pastor, Christian counselor or friend.  One who you know to have  a true understanding of God's Word.

Finally, worship God.  Go to church.  Listen to how you can apply God's Word to your life.  You can also attend a Bible study, listen to worship music or sit outside on your patio and enjoy nature.  God reveals Himself to us in the most miraculous of ways.  You just have to "seek and you will find."

So, the next time you find yourself angry at someone -- don't look to them; look to yourself. See where you are falling short.  Then turn to God and ask Him to take your shortfalls and mold you into the person he wants you to become.  He is the potter, you are the clay; in essence, you are His masterpiece.

Men and Wine

I have to admit -- when I met my husband, I did not know he was as old as he was.   I seemed to recall writing in a maximum age of 63 on the online dating site profile; turns out, he was 67.  Twelve years older than myself.  Not what I had envisioned.  Yet, he was a youthful-looking man, and I swore he didn't look a day over 60.  I was scared, but continued to date him.  He was fun and charming.  What was the harm?  After all, I wasn't looking for a lifetime partner. We had a series of ups and downs that first summer.  The first of many break-ups.  I was not ready for him.

Fast forward 10 months.  Things were getting serious.  He bought a ring for me.  Not just that, he went back to work so he could buy a ring for me.  I still didn't really want to get married but said "Yes" to the proposal.  Why?  I'm not even sure why...I just knew that I couldn't say "No."

Three months later, I moved in with him.  He said it would save me money.  Besides, I was over so often, "Why not?"  Why not, indeed.  I could save money by moving in but it was a rocky time.  We had many fights.  I was scared.  I didn't want to be here.  Too little space -- he owned a one-story home while I had never lived in anything but a two-story for most of my life.  His home was bigger, yet I felt claustrophobic at times.

A year passed.  Then, one day, while driving home, I saw the garbage cans sitting outside.  It was a familiar sight and one that signaled home.  It showed me love.  I felt love; something that I hadn't ever really felt before -- and suddenly, I knew.  He was the man for me.

A few weeks later, I thought about our relationship.  Where were we going?  Did I really just want to be a live-in?  Is it possible that I could want to really marry this man?  I had said I would but would I really do it?  In the past two years, I had looked for a thousand excuses to leave.  I decided that I didn't want that kind of relationship.  I loved him and wanted to marry him.  We set a date.  We planned.  And then, things went horribly awry.

Shortly before the wedding he became ill; seriously ill.  And I again, questioned the age difference.  Did I really want to marry someone who could be chronically ill or die?  I played this question over and over in my mind.  And then he went to the hospital a second time, and I thought he was going to die.  And I started crying.  I didn't want to lose him.

So, how does one go from casual dating to this is the man I will love and cherish forever, even when he is ill?  I'll tell you how.  This is the secret of marrying an older man.

An older man opens car doors for you.  He takes the extra time to walk around the car for you.  An older man will tell you how gorgeous you are; he appreciates every stretch mark, wrinkle and gray hair you may have.  Whereas I dated men in their 50's, they seemed to be hypercritical -- apparently, I was not thin enough for their taste.  On the other hand, this man describes me as comfortable.  He loves my body and is not shy about showing or telling me such things.  During 

the summer months, he fixes my coffee.  He does not look like an Adonis, nor does he need to.  He has sparkling blue eyes, gray hair and wrinkles.  He is real.  He has lived a lifetime and is willing to let me live mine as I see fit.   He loves an independent woman. He snuggles and recognizes that life is short, having lost his last wife at my age.  He is a consummate gentleman and yet, he can be bawdy and funny -- making me laugh until I cry!  

Yet, most women pine for a younger man.  A young man may look better but they do not have the experience or wisdom to understand what a woman longs for.  A woman longs for a mate -- one who will cherish her as she is...and not look for younger, thinner or better looking.  A woman longs for a man who will provide for her and make her feel safe.  A woman longs for a man to look at her in a way that shows he loves her -- you can see it in the eyes.  A woman wants a man who is thrilled to have her and does not look any further.  I have that man.

I almost missed it.  I almost missed seeing that an older gentleman is a treasure and not a liability.  I almost missed having the love I always dreamed of, thinking about all the "what-ifs?"  I almost missed being with an incredible smile, who makes me laugh at ourselves and our silly, stupid love.  I almost missed out...

It's often been said that women and wine get better with age.  Truth be told, I think it's the same with men.  An older man (or a very mature younger man) can make the difference between "coffee and a movie" kind of relationship or someone who remains in your heart forever.  I chose  the path less traveled...I chose the latter.  

Blues

And so, vacation blues have hit.  After two fabulous days in San Diego, I am exhausted, depressed and anxious.  With doctors appointments looming, familial messes that are coming to light and work just around the corner, I am feeling completely overwhelmed.  I am also looking over my goals from the last four years and realize there are some pretty big ones that I haven't hit...I can't help but wonder if these two have something to do with my depression.

First, there is my book.  I vowed I would work on it this summer and I can't even look at it right now.  At the time I wrote it, I felt it was perfect.  I am now wondering.  Is it?  Is this the work God had planned for me?  If so, why am I struggling so with it?  I was ready to publish three years ago and now, it just sits.  It is, a cautionary tale with elements of courage, strength and perseverance.  I realize I am no longer that person.  I have, in a sense, traded in my hard work and efforts for love.   Have I sold out?  Perhaps I am letting down people who need to hear my story?  Know that they can do anything they set their mind to?  It is something I have been thinking about long and hard.

I also never met my weight loss goal.  Again, I am married and my husband loves me the way I am.  Do I need to change?  I don't feel like I look my best and yet, he adores every square inch of me...thin, fat or otherwise.  So, maybe I have made too much of this weight loss goal all these years?  Maybe it is the voice of my upbringing that is ringing in my ears.  Or perhaps, I actually realize that my health could be in jeopardy?  I'm not sure which; puzzling to say the least.

Lastly, I am looking at my friends who started where I was four years ago.   I was going great guns a couple of years back and now?  I have settled in -- or have I settled?  I am not who I was four years ago.  They, on the other hand, are knocking their goals out of the ball park.  They are, unfettered.  A different journey altogether.

Today, I had a talk with my daughter.  The truth is, on many levels, I am frustrated and bitter with the situation I was left with...I do not feel healed.  I am angry.  As I hear of my ex travelling to Paris, I can't help but wonder, "How is he funding these trips?"  He moved abroad to escape having to pay any debt (he has dual citizenship) and left me holding the bag.  Since he has no job, I can only surmise that my belief he stole money from our family is correct.  I cannot reconcile that in my head...who does that to a wife of 31 years and two children?  I am angry...furious...and yet,  I know I need to forgive him.  I believe in God and that he will one day...one day -- even out this injustice.  I shared liberally with him my inheritance and he chose to do the wrong thing; leave me $200,000 in debt. It's a hard pill to swallow.

And so, I am happy -- albeit, overwhelmed by life.  I know life is never perfect and it is what we make of it.  As summer wears on, I miss my grandchildren but don't want to leave my husband.  I am torn.  I want time away -- alone -- in a cabin on a lake.  Yes, that sounds great!  I need a getaway and yet, I WAS just away.  And so, as summer wears on, so will life.  "This too shall pass."  It will.  It will just take time to get rid of these summertime blues.

So How's Married Life?

I must confess, starting out a marriage with a husband who is ill is not ideal.  Although he is older than me, I walked right through that open door.  I figured we'd have AT LEAST ten years or more before we started suffering ill health.  Not so -- one of the reasons I say, "Live each day to the fullest!"  You are not guaranteed a year, a month, a day.

So as we were comparing notes yesterday, we were both saying, "I'm tired."  Unusual since we are getting a great rest without work and lots of playtime.  Yet, we are both exhausted.  And then it hit us...emotional stress.  It is the toll of the uncertainty of his illness.

So, we did what most people with stress would do...we exercised.  Worked the shit out of ourselves.  You see, exercise releases those endorphins that make you smile again.  In fact, we had a great day.  After exercise, I floated in the pool and read for an hour or so.  It's almost like being in the womb again for me...incredibly calming.

Today was a typical day -- lots of errands to run.  Except when your husband can't drive (and hates the way you drive) it can become a much dreaded chore.  In fact, some of our worst fights have been after car trips.  And so, today we drove across Vegas -- Henderson to Summerlin, and then some.   On a good day, it would take us 20 minutes.  Today was construction traffic on all the major freeways.  On the way home, I had a doctor appointment, which I was running late for -- thanks to the traffic.  So we went there next.  Spent a little over an hour to inquire about surgery on my left foot.  The podiatrist prefers a more cautious approach and decided orthotics and cortisone rather than surgery for something that may or may not help my foot.  On the other hand, my husband wants me to have the surgery -- a quick fix.  I asked my sister (a physician) for her advice and she agreed with the podiatrist.  My husband wants me pain-free and playing tennis -- also my goal.  But neither of us was in a good mood --especially after the car trip.

At the end of the day, we went to exercise.  Again!  And yes, I was too exhausted when we returned to worry about any trivialities that we were "discussing"...I hurt too much from lifting weights.  I have to say -- it felt good.  I personally think we need a boxing bag to kick in the garage -- but that blog's for another day.  In any case, we both felt satiated by our exercise.  The good news is his blood sugars are great when he exercises and he can pretty much eat what he wants.  As for me, I am beginning to wonder about this extra fifty pounds I'm carrying.  I honestly don't eat much to begin with and it doesn't MOVE! Again, for another day -- another blog.

So, how IS married life?  Aside from the ups and downs of worrying about my husband, it is good.  I think he might agree.  He hates not driving but this is something we both need to get used to.  I am looking at Plan B's in case he is unable to return to work in the fall.   How can we save 30K a year if that eventuality happens?   I hope it doesn't, as he has an amazing brain for science and loves his job.  But if it does, then we need to be prepared for it.  Again, I figured in sickness and health gave us time to catch our breath and maybe be closer to retirement and Medicare age.  Not always the case.

And so, we take each day as it comes.  I don't worry too much about tomorrow because you never know what tomorrow will hold.  I pray for renewed health for my husband and for patience when he loses his.   I pray that we will grow together in our Christian faith and continue to grow closer as a couple.  And most importantly, I pray for God's hand to hold us through all of this.  How's married life?  Certainly not what I expected -- it's better than I thought...full of love, laughter and surprises!

Faith > Fear

This week has been a rush of emotions; the culmination of the last month or so.  It finally came -- we had the  appointment with a neurologist.  Let me tell you, when something is wrong with a loved one's brain, THAT appointment cannot be soon enough.  And so, it arrived...yesterday.

As I described my husband's symptoms before his hospitalizations, I watched him.  We'd had an enormous fight a few days before.  During our argument, he was adamant that nothing was wrong with him.  Rather, I was trying to prevent him from driving, conspiring with the doctors, trying to get even with him for the ills of my ex-husband, etc., etc.  It was ugly.  It was two days of circular logic.  No reasoning or explaining could make things better.  My husband refused to take his medicine and refused to go to the hospital.  I gave up and left the house.  Married less than a month on what was one of the happiest days of my life.

I found myself wondering, what had I gotten myself into?  He was argumentative and unwilling to do what was necessary to get better.  We were both frustrated.  I spent nearly two days listening to accusations.  I finally called his son who left him a message -- I presume regarding taking his meds, since he finally did so.  My husband was angry.  I had, in a sense, betrayed him.

And so, this was what I went into the doctor's office with.  No calling this episode seizures -- simply, an episode.  I described what happened to the physician's assistant.  "So he became more paranoid?" was her question.  "Yes", I answered.  Mind you, this had never, EVER happened in the three years we have been together.  This was all new behavior.

The doctor came in with an air of confidence.  It felt good turning over our worries to him.  He said, "We are not looking at what we are reading but rather, we are going to be reading between the lines."  And so, this is what we learned.  My husband had a stroke in the past -- probably a silent stroke as he was never, ever hospitalized for one.  It is in the area of the brain that handles impulse control.  For whatever reason, something happened to my husband on May 12.  We are still not sure what it is but for now, he is taking a larger dose of anti-seizure meds.  The doctor asked if we owned a gun.  "No."  He told me if we get into a heated argument again to leave the house and call 911 since his reasoning and memory will be impaired and he will need help.  Point well taken.

We also learned that he could have had a transient ischemic attack (TIA), encephalitis or seizures.  He is checking for all of these things through a variety of tests.  Those will take place in July.  We should know by the beginning of August what he experienced and continues to experience.  In the meantime, he is not allowed to drive for three months.  A hard pill to swallow for a "take charge" kind of guy.

And so, we left the doctor's office with more knowledge but not everything.  We also had the "hard" talk.  He asked me if I would have married him knowing what I know now.  I was honest.  "No."  However, this could have happened a day after we got married, so really, does it matter?  He asked if I was scared of him?  I'm not gonna lie -- I was the other day, which is why I left.  We talked about putting deadbolts on the spare bedroom.  I don't think that's an option.  If I'm that scared, why am I here?  No, the current locks will suffice -- at least, in my mind.  I also told him, he better prepare himself for the fact that not only might he never drive again but he may have to stop working.  We talked about that eventuality.  Again, not easy.  We both spent the day in conversation and emotionally eating.  And then, today came.

I spoke with a friend of mine and the truth is, although I entertained the idea of leaving, I could not leave this man.  I.love.him.  To leave would really, in my head, be the unthinkable.  How would I feel if the tables were reversed?  And so, I have done what I have preached to so very many for so many years.  That is, to turn it all over to God.  The truth is, this is just too big for me.  Thinking about the different possibilities is overwhelming.  This is simply going to have to be a day-by-day situation where we handle whatever comes our way.

Neither of us saw this coming.  I had figured a good 10-20 years before our health would decline.  We may still have that but right now, this is a bump in the road.  And so, I am turning over my fears to God.  I am positive He is in the midst of this situation.  I no longer feel worried; rather, I feel at peace.  I don't believe God makes bad things happen but I do believe He is in the middle of our lives if we invite Him in.  We have.  He is holding us up throughout this entire ordeal.  Our situation is not great but it could be so much worse.  I thank God that I have this man by my side and that I am able to be next to his.   It's about having faith more than fear.  Give it to God and get some rest.

The Return

May 12th changed my life.  It is the day my fiance got ill and had to be hospitalized for seizures.  Released the next day, he was taken back to the hospital on May 14th.  Kept another two days and released the 16th.  After his last hospitalization and a trip to the doctor, it became apparent that a medical leave was in both of our futures.  And so, four weeks before the end of the school year, we both applied for FMLA.

It was granted; a blessing and a curse.  A blessing because there are very few resources for people in our situation unless you want to place your loved one in a nursing home or adult daycare (no and no).  And although I could have probably put him in the daycare, it was totally not for him.  He is waaaay too vital for such a drastic step.  It was pricey, too.  Either way, home or daycare, I would lose a week's pay.  And although I was taking care of my (now) husband, I felt bad.

 I felt like I had let my students down.  I was gone without a word.  I also felt like I had let down my co-teacher.  I knew he was grading 160+ papers for each assignent and posting grades for our students to see, pre-finals.  And my department?  I still had a gazillion things to do to wind up the year.  I was asked to do one thing -- progress reports from home for my IEP students -- not difficult; unfortunately, my password had died and I was unable to change it from home.  I racked my brain and decided to e-mail all the teachers at my school to see if they knew anyone who could stay with my husband and could drive.  Fortunately, one came through.  And so, although I am paying for someone to stay with him, I am still bringing home money, which is very much needed at this point.

And so, on Thursday, I returned to work.  My students were stunned..."Where were you?" was the reigning question.  I gave them the short version, "I ran away." to the longer version, "My husband was very sick and I needed to take care of him."  So many students told me how much they missed me (and I missed them, too).  On Friday, since it is different blocks, the same questions.  Kids I never would have thought  missed me expressed that they did!  And during 6th period, the period that had been the bane of my existence?  Applause for my return.  What do you say to that? There are no.words.

It felt incredibly good to return.  Next week are final exams and there will be much grading, posting to the grade book, filing and other things to be completed by Thursday's end.  Friday is checkout and I need to have signatures on my checkout card and turn in keys.  Fortunately, I am staying in my room next year, so no packing is needed.

This year has flown.  It has been a pleasure to work with my students -- most of the time!  I can't wait until they are seniors, so I can attend their graduation.   I am so proud of the strides they have made this year.  They are writing like it's no one's business, learned a LOT about grammar, improved their reading and English language skills, and are one year closer to holding that diploma in their hand.  As for my IEP kiddos, they will move on to a new teacher of record and I will meet a new group of twenty-plus kids...most who will be in English 11 with me.

As I think about summer (it is a month shorter this year), I am completely overwhelmed by reminding myself of what lies ahead in the next school year.  I am thrilled to be back and happy that my husband is doing well these last few days of school.  I am thankful for the opportunity to serve these young adults and help them get one step closer to their diploma.  Most of all, I am thankful for having a job I love.   Have a great summer!

The New Normal

In one week, the life my husband and I once knew, changed forever.  On Friday, May 11, I was home to help him try to find more assistance for his mother.  As it turns out, he needed the assistance.

When he woke up, I was on the phone on our patio.  I came inside about a half hour later to find him sitting on the couch.  "Did you have coffee?"  No answer.  "I'll make you some," I said.  Still no response.  I came over to the couch and notice he had a blank stare.  "Frank, are you okay?"  No answer.  "What's your birthday?" I asked.  "I don't know," was his reply.  "What's your mother's name?"  "Gladys."  That was correct.  "What's your brother's name?"  He couldn't find the answer.  Trying not to completely panic, I said, "You're going to the ER."  He balked.  I said, "Look, you are going.  Go get dressed."  He still balked but went to shave.  In the meantime, I called his doctor who also advised me to take him to the ER.  Waiting for his shaving to be finished, I said, "C'mon, let's go!"  I tried not to let the urgency in my voice show.

Once at the ER, he was immediately taken back.  He was given an MRI, CAT scan, extensive blood work and urinalysis.  Nothing.  Referral to a neurologist.  The only thing he had struggled with was an upper respiratory infection before this began.  He'd had a breathing treatment at his doctor's office the week before, given a prescription for a Z-pack, and been to the endocrinologist.  He was given an EEG and diagnosed with epilepsy.  He was given a prescription and sent home.

Mother's Day evening, we returned to the hospital.  It appeared he was having seizure-nap-seizure-nap all.day.long.  He was completely bedridden, combative and did not know me or that he was in the hospital.  He had a more extensive EEG, 4 hours -- looking for something called staticus epileticus.  The problem with the EEG, is you have to be actively having seizures to see them.  They were a day late and a dollar short.  I suspect if he'd been tested the day before, that would have been his diagnosis.  For now, I give him medication to stop seizures when I notice any mental status changes and his regular medication to prevent them.  It takes a good 2 weeks or more for the medication to take full effect.  For now, I prefer to keep him out of the hospital particularly with the super-bugs that now seem to be even more dangerous than what he has.

In the meantime, I am learning many things about learning to live with epilepsy.  For one, the type of epilepsy he has gives him stroke-like symptoms.  Although they pass after roughly 24 hours (and now, even faster since I give him a preventative dose of medication), it is hard to listen to him rant and rave.  He becomes confused and has hallucinations.  He does not know who I am.  He is unaware of his surroundings.  Right now, he needs a full-time sitter.

However, if you look on the epilepsy website, there are many types of seizures.  I had no idea.  Although I have worked with students who have had absent, petit mal and grand mal seizures, I never knew that there was a type of seizure that could impair someone so quickly and severely.  I am learning.  I am also learning things such as, what medication does he take?  When?  Is he taking it?  Keeping him well-hydrated.  Not to engage in conversation other than short answers when he is confused -- it just ends up frustrating both of us.  It is a tough hand to be dealt but I also know it could be so much worse.

He is still the man I know and love; and after a few months on medication, he should be (mostly) fine.  It is not how I envisioned life but then again, none of us can predict what the future holds.  For now, live life to the fullest.  It can change in a heartbeat.  Although I have known this for some time, to live this is quite a different reality.  It is the new normal.  It is our life.