March is fairly awful, as months go, with the exception of Bryce's birthday (which was lovely).
It is typically when I have my IEP meetings, and so I am buried under paperwork and meeting prep and the anticipated stress of a full day of chairing meetings with the team and parents and people from the 9th grade building and students who may or may not want to hear the truth bombs that inevitably fall.
It is Daylight Saving Time, which is lovely for giving us light later and the ability to walk outside after work, but horrid for yet again waking up in the dark. Although a bonus is pretty sunrises on the way in: this morning's was particularly breathtaking.
It is the anniversary of my eye doing all the horrible things and the beginning of the end of our adoption journey and slow march towards my prednisone-fueled breakdown that nailed that coffin.
And now, it's the month where I found myself at a different end, scheduling a hysterectomy to put a stop to pain and unproductive, uncooperative organs that gave me a whole lot of nothing but awfulness.
I had my surgical consult on Friday, after a full day of 7 IEP meetings. The good news is they got me in as soon as they could, and the surgeon actually arranged it on his cell phone himself. The bad news is it's April 9th, which while luckily not RIGHT NOW, which would be super stressful for prepping, is just a titch farther out than I feel comfortable with, given that it's within the window that the pain could return.
Why, why, WHY is it that my cycles become somewhat regular only when it serves to hurt me?
Anyway, my fellow special ed friends and I have dubbed this The Dark Times -- for the insane amount of hours spent writing IEPs and reports and coordinating service providers, for the mailing and copying and updating of information, for the feeling of THIS IS NEVER GOING TO GET FINISHED that feels like a steel anvil on your psyche. To have all of that on top of the hysterectomy scheduling and finagling and planning for a 6 week absence (I could feasibly do 4 if I had a desk job, but I don't, so 6 it is. I could do as many as 8, but I don't think that's necessary. But good to know it's there if I need it for whatever reason), it just seems like too much.
I am ready for some sunshine, dammit.
Want to read more #Microblog Mondays? Go here and enjoy!
So I don’t have all that IEP and uncooperative organs going on, but Daylight Savings has just been the worst...it’s *only* an hour, but it really seems to upset everyone’s body rhythm and everything else. A week in and it’s finally feeling a bit better.
ReplyDeleteSorry your surgery is scheduled out farther than you want, and I will pray that the pain doesn’t come back beforehand. Maybe they will have a cancellation and bump you up? It sometimes happens! Much Love, Jess!
I just saw on the news that spring arrives tomorrow at 3:58 (my time), and that always gives me great hope during these dark times.
ReplyDeleteI hope the anvil fades away soon, no doubt as your work those insane hours to get it all done. And I'm glad the sun is setting on your uterus' ability to wreak havoc for you. May all these transitions be a smooth as possible for you.
Ooof, having a major doctor's appointment after seven IEP meetings sounds exhausting and tough. Hoping that the anvil lifts soon for you and your colleagues. Sorry that the surgery date is further out than ideal and hoping that things work out that you don't have to experience the pain coming back.
ReplyDeleteSunshine, yes. Even with daylight savings, it still feels really dark yet. Some warm weather and light would be very welcome and I hope you get some soon!
Six weeks off sounds good, but please don't hesitate to take the full 8 weeks if you need it. I was a special education teacher and the department chairperson when I had to have an ovary removed very unexpectedly. I ended up needing the full 8 weeks to recover.
ReplyDelete(Gah, my experience with infertility makes me really hate giving unsolicited advice, but I guess I couldn't help myself here. Just wanted to throw the idea of possibly taking 8 weeks to heal out there!)
It's darkest before the dawn, and I truly think your hysterectomy will give you that feeling of security and freedom that is currently weighing you down. I'm hoping that your crazy work pressures ease just in time for you to breathe before the op.
ReplyDeleteSending love and light and best wishes.