One Week

Last Wednesday morning began with an eye doctor appointment. 

This Wednesday morning began with an eye doctor appointment. 

In between, my whole life has been renovated--not destroyed, but certainly gutted, and with substantial restructuring.  

I suspect (hope) that my Bell's Palsy diagnosis story is atypically dramatic.  For example, most people (I think) get the diagnosis, reel, and deal.  I, on the other hand, got the diagnosis.  Got violently ill from the "cure."  Barely avoided landing in the hospital from diabetes-related steroid/antiviral complications, and then spent the week pushing through the steroids.  This means buzzing, vibrating, thrumming with an elevated heart-rate, and not sleeping for four nights or days in a row.  It meant mostly laying down, or propping up.  And wondering (while hearing jazz music trill when you are not playing any) why anyone would ever ever ever want to trip on LSD.  

Because I went all "A" student and overachieved, I don't know what is like to just have Bell's Palsy.  I cannot separate my face and all that goes with it with all of the other physical sensations I have experienced this week.  

But I am getting an idea of what it will be like.

Last Wednesday, after the COVID diagnosis came in, I headed home.  I felt great. I intended to simply teach on Zoom until I was in the clear.  As my other symptoms came on, I Zoomed with students, and talking was a struggle, but I was also pulsating and trying to stay upright.   I didn't really get it.  That accumulated slowly...through infrequent Zooms, short phone calls, talks at home.

Talking hurts. It is impossible for long periods.  It is to be avoided for long periods, especially for healing.

Talking happens to be my job.  

This Wednesday, today, I finalized a conversation I started with my Department Chair yesterday: could I get some teaching coverage for the rest of the semester? 

So, in the course of 48 hours, I have gone from teaching my four classes to two. 

I have emailed my department my new "plan," with a schedule that will limit my time on campus (and remove my temptation to be social--i.e. chat).

I have emailed the two wonderful people who are taking over for me complete notes on my classes, the current grade book, the pulse of the class. 

I have emailed students that I am stepping back for the semester.  

Doing so broke me.  

This is not the week of school I envisioned.  

But is the one that I have had.

In this week, I have also had incredible support and affirmation that I am in the right place, doing the right job.  Students have been wonderful.  Colleagues and friends have checked in, brought me gifts, run errands, covered for me, and sent me great memes.  My hubby has been a star, and my mom and dad are prayers warriors and encouragers.

I feel treasured. 

And rearranged, battered, gutted, and cracked--a work in progress who is currently not making any plans for her week.