When You Do Not Know What to Expect
I am a man of routine. It comes with being anxious and it also comes with a life in public schools. From the age of five to 56, all I knew was a school schedule. The long stretches, holidays, three day weekends, conferences, grades, and bells, lots and lots of bells. The strange thing is, if you ever taught, you know there is nothing predictable. Class can be going well when suddenly a student throws up, dislocates an ankle, or you are told to report to the office ASAP while in the middle of teaching a class.
There are students who die, cry, and threaten to sue. There are parents who are your strongest supporters and others who go to the district office to file complaints on you. Administrations come and go and with each new one comes a philosophy they think is original and is going to change the world.
In 30 years I worked for one visionary superintendent and two wonderful principals. I also worked for a few horrible superintendents, a few good principals, and a slew of people who were just hoping to get a better gig at the district office.
I have had to leave class to take care of a young girl who just confided in being sexually abused at home, been alone in a classroom trying to talk down a student with a gun who said I reminded him of the abusive stepfather he wanted to kill, consoled students trying to grasp the passing of a classmate, and assure students with horrific, life changing injuries they were going to be okay.
Strangely, in most cases, those things did not get to me. I always remained calm in the worst situations. Now, whenever a student told me to fuck off, they saw a side of me that made some crap in their pants. But in the worst situations, I kept my cool.
One thing I used to always be able to count on was how I would physically feel. I became interested in a fit lifestyle very early on and after I left college, I refused to let the workload of teaching prevent me from taking care of myself.
When your father is a family doctor like mine was, you get your vaccines. In particular, you received a flu shot, often twice a year. Other children might miss school with the flu, but the Moore children were going to show up. In fact, I was 22 and living away from home in college the first time I came down with the flu. I had no idea what I was hit with, I was just thankful I lived with a guy who had codeine and Tylenol. Sixteen hours of sleep and some serious sweating and I woke up feeling fine. The next time I came down with the flu was in December of 1999. I was determined to stick out the fever and chills to finish the last week of school before Christmas break. However, my office manager saw how miserable I was and called a sub in for me and ordered me home until after the break.
Knock on wood, but that has been it for me with influenza. Every fall, I make sure to get a flu shot along with a shingles and pneumonia shot. I prefer knowing I can expect to not get sick, even if I have to wear something over my face when there’s an outbreak of COVID or some other killer bug. The way I see it, for every day I have to miss working out because I am sick, it takes two to three days to get back to where I was. I don’t want to get knocked on my ass for a week if it means another three weeks to get back to feeling healthy again.
Unfortunately, there must be a higher power at work making damn sure I fill up my quota of days where I feel like crap. It’s the only way I can explain why there are times when days, weeks, and even months pass where each day I feel like I have the flu minus the fever.
Today was one of those days. I woke up feeling like crap. I tried to ride my exercise bike as planned but had to cut it short. Forget about driving to pick up a prescription at CVS. I was on pain meds early because lifting my cup of morning coffee was a painful act. I ached all over. A warm shower did not help. Neither did a visit from a friend or playing a bit with Bug. Despite three consecutive nights of great sleep, I was hardly able to function or think straight.
Here’s the thing. If I knew it was a one or two day thing, I could plan accordingly. Afterall, I was a teacher and planning is my specialty. If I know there is an assembly on Thursday, I can plan around it. However, I have no idea if I will wake up feeling like a million bucks or wishing I could pay someone that amount to be me because of how I feel.
There are other challenges that come with never knowing how you will feel. If you are married or have a significant other who does not suffer like you, they get tired of hearing about how you feel. You have two choices; let them know you can’t take part in what was planned or suck it up and be miserable so they can be happy. I saw my mom deal with this dilemma and it never seemed to go so well for her.
As long as it is just Bug and me, it is not a problem. However, try growing old with someone who is not able to grasp what you live with.
It’s still early September and the weather is hot. However, it will not be long before the weather turns cold, damp, or downright wet. It’s a perfect recipe for physical misery for me. I no longer think too much about the high or low of the weather as much as I look at the humidity and barometric pressure. When they hit 30% or higher for humidity and 30 or more for barometric pressure, I can expect to be miserable. I normally do not look them up unless I feel like crap. I guess the numbers do not lie.
The other thing that does not lie is how all of this makes me feel about myself. I’m supposed to be the guy who took care of himself. I am the guy who made sure to work out and eat a good diet. I was the example for others to look up to until I wasn’t. To say it is humbling is an understatement. What kind of sick person wants to become a burden to others?
It’s hard going from being the guy who does everything for himself to being someone who must rely on others to do the things you feel you should still be able to do. Complicating matters is tomorrow I may well feel like the healthy person I expect to be. Then again, midway through a good day, I may suddenly feel nauseous, dizzy, and aching all over.
Expecting the unexpected may be fine when you teach, work in an ER, are a police officer, or just a stay at home parent. However, when it comes to how you will feel physically, the unexpected is stressful, demoralizing, and a perfect recipe for a life of anxiety, fatigue, depression, and eventually, loneliness.
I know I am not alone. I have met plenty who face similar challenges and who have expressed the same frustrations I have mentioned. The one common thing that we notice that hurts the most is the abandonment that comes from people who do not want to be around you or can’t be bothered maintaining a friendship with someone who faces an unwanted challenge.
Lindsey Buckingham sang, “Alone, we suffer.” It’s true. People can be empathetic, but there is a loneliness that comes with living with the unexpected. Why make plans with others only to cancel them? Try impressing someone you meet for the first time on a dating site when you feel like crap. Force yourself to do something only to be reminded of your limitations. Inevitably, you exert more energy than you want trying to eat, drink, and live an even healthier lifestyle only to be crushed to find out it made zero difference.
Planning for the worst while hoping for the best is not the way I want to live. Slowing down and just accepting my fate is no different than giving up. Getting your hopes up after feeling good for a few days in a row only to be slammed back to earth with a gigantic thud gets tiring. Seeking out one specialist after another and undergoing test after test is both time consuming and yields nothing conclusive.
In my case, I prefer to enjoy whatever I can each day and remind myself it’s not the end of the world if I feel like crap. I am lucky because I am retired and do not have to find a way to get through the workday, go home and deal with the kids, and then go to bed knowing work awaits me again. I know others who deal with stuff I would never want to face.
It’s getting light out. It’s time I go find out what my body has in it in my gym. If things go well, I may do a little yard work before running an errand or two. If they don’t, then the yard can wait, the errands will be there tomorrow, and I can rest knowing I am far more fortunate than most, and that is something to feel good about.
Jim is a life long resident of California and retired school teacher with 30 years in public education. Jim earned his BA in History from CSU Chico in 1981 and his MA in Education from Azusa Pacific University in 1994. He is also the author of Teaching The Teacher: Lessons Learned From Teaching. Jim considers himself an equal opportunity pain in the ass to any political party, group, or individual who looks to profit off of hypocrisy. When he is not pointing out the conflicting words and actions of our leaders, the NFL commissioner, or humans in general, he can be found riding his bike for hours on end while pondering his next article. Jim recently moved to Camarillo, CA after being convinced to join the witness protection program.