I can’t say this was a great week, but it had it’s good moments and as I look back, they will carry the week in my memory. I enjoyed hanging with my brother, his girlfriend, and his dog. My teacher observation went well, all things considered. The VP debate was much better than the presidential one had been. I got to spend a little time with the fourth year crew — the group of us who were hired at the same time and have to sit through rather silly “trainings” a few times a year…
The district’s number two man: “The second most important thing we do here is hire teachers. Do you know what the first is?”
Me: “Is it possibly educating the children?”
Him: “Yes!”
Me fellow fourth years: smirks
… There were a few lovely convos with friends, a moment of personal tenderness that will stick with me for years to come, and an encouraging email from the writing world about my manuscript. Oh! And Bill Konigsberg liked and responded to a tweet I wrote. So all in all, Week 41 was at least better than last week. And that’s something, I supposed.
Sunday
Twas the first time my brother brought home a girl… and I like her. She likes Harry Potter and lets me go on about books and authors. Plus she’s good at chatting it up with my mom. She also said something when we were in the car on the way back from Snowbird Lake that made me feel grateful for Steven and the way we’re brother and sister… because there are different ways of being siblings, and sometimes those relationships are fraught or estranged or the exact opposite — too all up in each other’s business.
I’d asked if she had siblings and she told me vaguely of her brother, only fifteen months different in age from her (I can’t remember if he’s older or younger). She felt as though growing up that close in age had made them want to go their separate ways in adulthood, but didn’t really elaborate. I looked at Steven and joked, “I feel like we’re the appropriate amount of close.” He laughed and agreed, but she emphatically said, “Oh yeah — I’m super jealous of your relationship.” And I don’t know if she was just trying to get on my good side, but she succeeded. Because I love my brother and I love the space we give each other but the ways in which we’re constants in each other’s lives, too.
Monday
I love my hydrangea bush. And as a thank you to Nick and Ashley for always letting me use their garage, I brought them some flower puffs to let dry.
Tuesday
Ummm… I guess I’m really happy about my hydrangeas this week because here’s another picture of some that are drying in my kitchen. After a long day in front of the computer, getting my tenure observation done through a screen (which went as well as it could have), I suppose drying dead flowers are a welcome sight?
Wednesday
I had my second round of Rituxan today in Albany. It’s kind of old hat now. Mundane almost. But still traumatic in all these little ways I feel like I have to ignore because I don’t have the right to feel upset by it all when others have is so so worse.
But the thing is? The whole misadventure drained me more than it usually does, and it all kind of bothered me this time. Seeing all the sick and dying cancer patients and averting my eyes because it’s not right that I’m privy to their pain and vulnerability when I’m being ushered to a private room. My infusion takes at least four hours, in contrast to the quick hits of chemo they’re getting — hence the room with the bed for me and the reclining chairs in curtained sections of the hall for them. Doesn’t feel right.
My blood pressure dropped and my temp went up a few degrees like it always does, but it was all more noticeable this time. I got lightheaded and, though I managed to host virtual office hours for students for two hours (with my camera off), I succumbed to a heavy sleep as soon as I signed off the Google Meet. Half awake for one of their vitals checks, I felt the band squeezing my arm to test my blood pressure press down uncomfortably on the area the IV was. The band was too low. It hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t want to cry out because my mom was there. And I didn’t really have the energy to anyway.
But when I got home, my mom made me food and my Sammy kii cuddled with me while I napped on the couch… Until I had to get up to lesson plan with my co-teacher, make videos for students, and watch the VP debate. But hey — there was a fly on Pence’s head and Amanda and I got a kick out of that… I think most of the world did, actually.
Thursday
Who knew something could shit in such pretty colors! My dad said it was grape poop. They have vines abundant with bunches of grapes this year — more than they know what to do with. You can catch a small glimpse of them in the far background to the left in this picture. Look at this Indigo splatter, though! Deep blue on one end, fully purple on the other, dropped at just the right angle — it’s truly a work of art! Or… I guess bird digestion. But you say potato…
Friday
Sometimes phone calls with Taranne deteriorate into this. But there are worse things.
Saturday
I went for a walk today around the golf course, and the view of the foliage and the city from the hilltop was beautiful. But nothing put a smile on my face today as much as my cat getting distracted mid-bath and forgetting to put his tongue away for a good ninety seconds.