Chapter 18

I wake up. I allow my facial muscles to do their morning dance while my hands hands. They quiet and I rise. I’ve slept on my hair wet so it is curly and unruly. I put on an old hoodie to cover the animal atop my head. I’m not in a hurry to get myself dressed, but I need to be able to answer the door when my co-worker comes and gets the kids.

By feats of strength and sheer magic, the kids are ready before my co-worker arrives. I make myself coffee and crawl back into bed. One small blessing of this upset in my life, is I get to have a slow morning to recover after the stress ball, fever pitched, blood pressure raising event that is the weekday morning routine.

I relax for an hour and then glance at the clock. I take a gabapentin in the morning for the first time, throw on jeans, put my hair up in a messy bun, and call an Uber. It’s a big day. I’m going into work to meet with my principal, Rick, to plot my slow return to work.

Living just outside the big city, I’m surprised how quickly an Uber comes. I immediately go to the front seat. By myself, it will feel too weird being in the back. I feel like a carjacker as I take a seat and then state, “We are going to take a detour through the Starbucks drive-thru.” I offer to buy him a coffee. See, I’m a nice carjacker? He politely turns me down.

Arriving at school, I take a seat at the front office. I watch in amusement as students’ eyes widen in surprise when they walk by and see me. I’ve brought only my planner and brand new parent appreciation school tote bag. Rick is ready for me. Our student life director joins us.

Here at school, I’m not worried those in charge won’t listen. I tell them what I need. They assure me they are here to support me and are just happy to see me. I start with the easy and go from there.

1. I can no longer be in charge of math team. I need to pull back from doing the extras. Math team has been a serious added stress. “Done! We agree. We took care of this yesterday.” Okay, that was easy.
2. I think I can continue my leadership position since I do it as a part of a team. I don’t want to leave my immediate partner hanging. If it proves to be too much, I’ll need to step back. “Not a problem.”
3. I want to try coming back just mornings to see how my body handles it. The afternoons will be easier to cover in house. “Sounds like a good idea.”

I open my plan book. Rick stands and goes to his white board monthly calendar. Together, the three of us plot out coverage for the next two weeks. There is an understanding that there may need to be adjustments. Now that there is a plan, I need to email my families. Most do not know exactly what is going on, only that I was in the hospital and recovering.

Rick gets me a chrome book and I begin to compose an email. I need to briefly and professionally explain what has happened. My biggest goals are to assure parents that I’m choosing to return because I want to and have been given the okay by a neurologist, tell them what their students will see (twitches, body tremors, and stuttering), and that it doesn’t hurt. I do not want the kids to be scared or cause alarm.

Email drafted and sent, I head down the hall. It’s time to go see my students. First I peak into my classroom. It’s empty except for my substitute. I thank him for his excellent coverage in my absence. I deduce the students are across the hall with my partner teacher. I open the door. The kids see me and cheer. I wave with my left as my right does its jazz hand routine. Middle schoolers are awesome. One student comments, specifically calling it a jazz hand.

Now that it’s official, I share with the kids that I’m planning to return next week. They are visibly relieved. Throughout my time at home, they’ve emailed me, to check up on my recovery and let me know how much they miss me, as well as ask for help on solving math problems.

It’s classroom lunches due to a funeral (hazard of being a Catholic School). As I make my way back down the hall to the principal’s office, I stop by different middle school rooms to say hello. Students are happy to see me. As word spreads that I’m in the building, I’m asked to visit other rooms. Teaching is about relationships. I may not be their teacher anymore, but students care.

It’s Student Appreciation Day. Even though my body tremors are letting me know it’s time to go, I decide to attend the assembly. I take a seat. As my presence is announced, the students cheer for me. I feel like a rock star. The speaker talks about the need for integrity, perseverance, and believing in yourself (while doing basketball tricks). He shares that doctors told him he would be lucky if he walked again after multiple knee surgeries and an infection. The speaker knew he was not done and was determined to get back to basketball. I’m glad I stayed for the assembly. It might be a message directed at middle schoolers, but today it was something I needed to hear.

Exhausted, I happily accept a ride home from another staff member. I immediately collapse on my bed and fall asleep for two hours. My adventure at work has served to reinforce that starting slow and working only mornings is probably a good idea.

Linus, my official courier, brings me home work to be graded and get well cards from the 7th and 8th. I’m too exhausted to lift my arms, let alone find the energy to open an envelope and read cards. Several hours later I am feeling up to the challenge. Unlike previous cards, these are kids who spent a year with me day in and day out. They are kids slowly figuring out who they are and their place in this world, often unaware of the needs of others (the crux of adolescence).

Their words mean the world to me. They share they favorite memory of my class or how I helped them become a better student. They wish me all the Starbucks to drink and chocolate to eat (some of my favorite things) and that no one make me eat seafood (which I hate). I chuckle about the amount of coffee references. There are punny jokes and riddles. One student even shares a Robert Frost poem. The cards capture the essence of middle school, they are both kids and young adults in the same moment.

The words I appreciate most come from a 7th grader who spent half of last year battling cancer. Besides words of encouragement, she gave me a list of things to do.

• Have a warm bath. I keep meaning to do that.
• Binge watch Netflix. Done!
• Read. Done!
• Take a nap. Oh yes. Definitely.
• Be a lazy potato chip (her favorite).

These are wise words from a twelve year old who has fought a much harder battle than mine. It’s not easy to let go. I have so much to do! But I will do my best to listen to her advice. I will be a lazy potato chip.