I wake up. Rain pelts the house. Wind blows branches against my bedroom window. I listen. I watch a tree several houses away sway. Is this the day a tree falls? I’m so tired. It’s Sunday morning. Despite relaxing most of Saturday, my right hand tremors without rest.
The previous four days were an experiment. Due to President’s Day, it was a short week. Deep breath. I worked full days. I was hopeful that the additional day off would give me the strength to power through the week. Teaching doesn’t give you time to remember you are tired. This can be dangerous when a big part of your disability is remembering to rest.
Tuesday goes well. By the time I reach the end of the day staff meeting, my body is done. My eyes blink wildly, my body rocks, my hand tremors. At home I tell the kids it’s “whatever” for dinner and go to bed. My kids love “whatever” dinner because it means they can have Cup O’ Noodles or cereal for dinner, or really whatever as long as it doesn’t require me.
Wednesday, Thursday. I’m doing okay, but the stuttering is slowly intensifying, the effect of three full days of work and no nap. I’ve tried to not go too hard or walk around too much. I only brought home tests to grade one night. I impressed myself with managing to grade a set of tests while simultaneously making mac n’ cheese.
Earlier in the week Dave and the kids were watching a video, and one of the YouTubers was wearing a t-shirt, with the saying, “Words are hard.” Thursday night that same t-shirt appeared on my doorstep. We are able to dress a little more casual on Fridays. I decide to wear the shirt. Dammit. I am going to embrace this disability. It’s especially apropos given I wake up Friday shaking and stuttering. Fridays are always more challenging since I have no prep period. Luckily, my partner teacher offers to cover my advisory period at the end of the day so I can go home. Don’t have to ask me twice!
Back to Sunday. I’m so tired, but I make myself get out of bed. I have to go to church. I promised my friend, Colleen, I would be her confirmation sponsor. Seated at the front of the church, I feel on display. This feeling is further reinforced when I have to go stand in front of the congregation. My right hand rests for no one!
After mass, I’m about to leave when I feel a hand on my shoulder. An older couple who had sat behind me at mass asks, “Excuse me, but what disease do you have?” I should probably be offended. Instead, I smile and explain that I’m not sick, but have a brain injury. This makes them excited. The husband has a brain injury too! The couple, who has yet to introduce themselves, begins to ask more probing questions.
Oh, old people. You have no filter, only morbid curiosity. I could tell them it’s none of their business, but I don’t. I’ve been open about my experience. Then they ask a question that I don’t hear as much. How am I doing emotionally?
It’s never occurred to me to go crawl into a hole and wallow in my misery. When I experienced lidocaine toxicity, I first tried to fight against the seizure. When my doctor was concerned about getting me to the hospital, I was concerned about my kids missing swim class and how I would get to work in the morning if I didn’t drive home. I’ve been too busy dealing with life to worry about myself. If that is not the epitomy of motherhood, I don’t know what else is. Don’t mind me. In the middle of a health crisis, but did Dave help Robin with his homework and did that permission slip get signed?
I’m too busy to worry about the what-ifs. Multiple doctors have told me I will eventually get better. I have a diagnosis, pills that help manage the symptoms, and a plan for therapy. My only real complaint is that I have gained 4 pounds and am losing muscle tone. This is a side effect of getting less than 6k steps a day and eating lots of chocolate.
I’m grateful that this injury happened at a point in my life where I have a husband, good friends, and supportive co-workers. I do not have to go job hunting while hindered by a stutter and body tremors. I’m not trying to date or heading off to college, needing to make a new friend group. Life would be a lot scarier without a support network.
After I leave the older couple in the church, I go to find my family at coffee and donuts. More people come find me. Church people make me nervous. I don’t feel nearly as Catholic as them and am nervous about judgement. People have heard about me, but haven’t seen me until today when I stood in all my shaking glory in front of the church. I get to assure people that I’m okay and that no, really, now that I can drive and am doing a little better, I don’t need a meal train.
Linus offers to come “rescue me.” I ignore his offer. Really, it’s not about me but his desire to play on the i-pad. I know that people just want to check in with me because they care. Robin scales me like a monkey on a tree and plants a kiss on my cheek as I talk to a family whose son I taught several years ago.
Later in the day, we head to my in-laws for our regular bi-monthly gathering. This part of the family hasn’t seen me since the injury. My newly 18 year old nephew is curious about the injury itself and its effect on my nervous system. He asks why I was given lidocaine. I smile and put my hand on his knee and say, “You are an adult now so I’m going to talk to you like one.”
I then tell him I was replacing my IUD. His grandma (not my mother-in-law) is sitting by us. She is a nurse practitioner. He isn’t quite sure what an IUD is so we explain as well as why that would entail getting a shot of lidocaine. It was actually a really good conversation since he had received lidocaine himself before.
My ten year old nephew sidles up next to me and is at first is curious about why my hand is shaking. Later, he offers to make me a plate at dinner and then checks to make sure if I need a drink. My three year old niece tells me, “Aunt Charlotte. I love you.” I didn’t know she could even say my name! These kids melt my heart.
I’m doing okay emotionally because I have a monkey who is still willing to kiss his mama in public. I’m doing okay because I have so many people in my corner. I’m not sure what this week is going to bring. Five full days of work is intimidating. Four was hard enough. Hopefully, my rest this weekend is enough to get me through.