So This Is What Happens When You Get Sick.

Nearly a year ago, I "dedicated" myself to adding more posts to this blog.  I also, rather foolishly, started another blog last July.  Then, I got sick.  Well, as you adjuncts know, one of the problems with getting sick is that there is no place in your life for illness.  You have no sick leave.  You don't get paid if you don't teach.  You will get poor reviews if you teach poorly, are late grading, or don't challenge your students enough.  And if you miss class too often, you may find yourself being asked to miss class....permanently.  


I'm luckier than most adjuncts, in that a fair number of my classes are conducted online, and I have a husband of 42 years who is semi-retired (not by choice) and who has the time to do everything from laundry to cooking to chauffeuring, and lugging my books for me when I can't.  Others are not so lucky, and I feel for them.  


My health issue is one involving my thyroid.  Weird symptoms left in in pain and thoroughly fatigued last summer and through the fall (when I taught 10 courses).  I'd seen the doctor.  As most people over a "certain age," I have my problems (allergies, fibromyalgia, poor posture from carrying tons of books and papers, etc) so when I started to have neck pain, shoulder pain, fatigue, etc, no one gave it much though, including me.  Hey, I'm one stubborn Polish kid.  I'm driven by stubbornness.  It's gotten me where I am (which my husband doesn't agree is always the best place).  I got through finals in December and found myself suffering the very next day from the Norovirus that one of my lovely students opted to pass on to me.  


Now, I haven't had a "stomach bug" in......30 years?  I just don't get sick that way, but sick I was - scary sick, as my husband put it - for nearly a week.  I lost a ton of weight, had muscle cramps from dehydration, and completely dismissed Christmas.  My husband came down with the "bug" too, but he had the 24-hour version and was back up on his feet taking care of me in no time.  Somehow, I managed to complete grading of finals and research papers and get my grades in on time.   Don't ask me how because I just don't remember.  


New Year's Day came, and while I was on the phone to my cousin in Florida, I developed a pain around my jaw on the right side.  The pain was furiously intense and spread quickly to my chest, back, other side of my neck, into my face, throat.  I couldn't move, couldn't talk.  My husband found ice, heating pads, Advil, Tylenol, you name it.  Finally after about 45 minutes, I felt like I would live (No, stubborn Polish woman would never call an ambulance.  It was probably only a swollen gland).  


The long and short of it is that I did see a doctor, another doctor, a third doctor, had numerous tests, left a ton of blood at the lab, and found out that I have Graves Disease, and thyroiditis (the really painful kind) which I've probably had since last summer.  I'm now on medication (including steroids that have had the effect of making me look and feel like a balloon) and finally, I'm starting to feel human.  I can actually do my own laundry (if I take it slowly) and have put the serious pain killers away, although not too far out of reach.  


I don't remember going back and starting the semester right after Martin Luther King Day.  I had three day classes and four online classes to teach.  My husband drove me, carried my books, made sure I had thermos jugs full of hot water for tea (the only thing that gave me any relief quickly), and rested with me the three times I needed to stop between the car and the building about 100 feet away.  I really don't remember much of the first half of the semester; I was truly in survival mode - sleeping in the recliner (I couldn't lie on my neck), taking pain killers at the proper time, working in short spurts, and filling my time with a lot of bad TV and movies.  I was living life moment to moment at times.  


My students were wonderful.  I don't remember what I told them the first day of class, but I did tell them I was sick, and that I hoped they would forgive me if I had to temporarily walk out of the room.  I assured them I would not die, even though at times I thought I would and probably looked like it.  As I received information, I passed it on to my students, not for sympathy, but so that they would know that they were my first priority, and that despite my illness, I would do my best to keep them on track.  I excused absences for sick students, expanded office hours, forgave deadlines when students had problems.  In other words, we started to work together in understanding that life interferes with what we have to do.  


Yes, I'm aware that when students go out into the big wide world, they will have to meet deadlines, cope with illnesses, deaths in the family, financial difficulties, broken down cars, etc.  But I was reminded by my own illness that there are some times when we can't just meet the demands everyone else puts on us.  The world has become a cold and unforgiving place.  We risk life and limb driving through blizzards in minimum-wage jobs.  We drag our sick selves to desk jobs when we could probably work from home (while also infecting everyone else around us).  And we have lost our sympathy for those around us who are sick.  Not every illness is cancer (Yes, we still show great sympathy for our friends with cancer), but other illnesses, many of them internal and unseen, can badly derail us.  


I'm eternally grateful for students in class and online who encouraged me, inquired about me, and forgave me for some late grades and missed items.  I also made sure that my administrative overseers were aware of exactly what was going on with me and how I was accommodating my students.  They, too, were extremely supportive.  


So, maybe now, I can keep my promise, and get back to this blog.