Confessions of a Blogaholic

I was reading/skimming through my NEA magazine (Teacher Union) when I had a thought, and as with all thoughts I have, I had to share it with the world.

Someone wrote a letter to the editor about grades and how assigning grades at the secondary level prepares students for the competitive workforce they are about to enter. I hate grades and the whole grading system. An "A" to me means: this product shows incredible improvement over your last product; you put forth a lot of effort; I see you making remarkable strides forward. Notice the emphasis on "YOU." An "A" to me does not mean: you are ranked with the best of the best of my students; your work is equal to or greater than all the other kids; you should be moved to a higher grade to be with more competent peers.

Nonetheless, my point is that grades are ambiguous. They mean nothing.

The thought, though, that popped into my head as I read this letter to the editor was this...Why do we spend so much time trying to prepare out students for the society in which they live when we are capable of preparing them to create a better society? Currently, we are preparing worker bees; we give them the necessary tools to become "productive members of American society." I am almost ashamed to quote that phrase because I, too, said it during all of my teacher interviews. We, as teachers, are taught to do this; it is our core purpose in this profession. "Produce productive members of American society." How sad. I would hate for my children to grow up in this society. I want a better, more tolerant, less competitive, less stressful, more positive world for my children. It's sad to think that we teach for the sake of furthering what we already have.

Our purpose, our value, our mission should be more optimistic; we should be teaching them the necessary skills to "promote peace through good communication, tolerance, and self-worth" while helping them think critically in an effort to "create a better existence for all mankind." Is that hokey? Hell yeah it is, but I want MORE for my future, the future of my students, and the future of my kids.

It sounds cliche to say this, but I am not in this business to train worker bees. I am in this business to change the world.

That is the number of times this blog has been viewed in the last 88 days. Unbelievable! I'm not that interesting, really!

I've been sort of struggling today, feeling very weird about the test results. The teacher-friend next door told me her father was just diagnosed yesterday with prostate cancer---just one more person diagnosed recently. Then, she asked me how I am feeling, and I thought, "Hmm...how am I feeling?"

I'm trying so hard to prepare myself for the worst news possible. If I go in expecting the worst, I'll feel so much better when the news is good. And if it isn't good, I will be better able to deal with the bad news. When I initially met with the RE, I didn't prepare myself for the worst news, and the "endometrial hyperplasia" was a total shock to my system. To prepare for the biopsy, I tried diligently to imagine the worst pain I have ever been in, thinking this would prepare me for the pain of the procedure. I can honestly say I still wasn't prepared. Now, for the results, the worst case scenario is--I have cancer and I lose my uterus.

...but trying to wrap my mind around that possibility is like trying to imagine what it feels like to have a million dollars in the bank. It's impossible to grasp and even more impossible to understand.

I can live for the possible positive outcomes all I want, but I have to be prepared if the news isn't good. How do I do that when the bad news is so unimaginable?

I like to think I have a high tolerance for pain. The tattoo on my foot was two hours of swollen skin and a needle irritating ever last nerve in my body, but I held fast throughout the session. I thought that would be the ultimate pain in my life and that I would never have to experience anything close to that (other than childbirth, obviously).

But my biopsy takes the cake as the most painful experience in my life, and it was only about 5 minutes long. I'd love to explain all the gory, bloody (literally) details, but let's just leave it at this--it felt like someone had a cotton swab deep inside my body and they were using it to try and tunnel through my skin. Pressure like a S.O.B. All for the tiniest of endometrium samples. Definitely not something I would recommend to anyone.

I will get the results at my 30-45 minute appointment on Monday, March 9. Nathan will be going with me to this meeting, and I hope to get some good news! Thanks for keeping me in your thoughts.

In related news, a co-worker told me today that she is pregnant and due August 14th. I put on my happy face and gave her the best "congratulations" I could muster while feeling my uterus twinge with a jealousy from the depths of my soul. Really, I'm happy for her...just increasingly angry with myself.

The kids drove me nuts today. I absolutely felt like I was dragging them through the mud, and every time I heard, "What are we supposed to be doing?" I thought about gouging my eyeballs out.

I've been sort of dreading tomorrow for the last week, but I've also been looking forward to it because I'll soon have my answers and I won't have to stress out any more.

Because I am currently on CD12 of a VERY HEAVY AF, I'm worried that he won't be able to get enough of a sample from the lining. From what I've read online, the RE will send the results of the biopsy to a pathologist, who will then determine whether or not the sample is sufficient enough. If not, I will have to go in for a d&c to get a larger sample. Judging by the severity of AF these past two weeks, it would be a wonder to me if there is anything left for him to sample.

I slept from 2am last night until 5:35 pm today, and I'm blaming it all on exhaustion.

SO...fingers crossed I'll remember to do all the things I have to do tomorrow (take 2 zithromax in morning, call Nathan to find out if work let him off, call Mom to confirm need for her to go, take 4 ibuprofen one hour before procedure, remember directions to RE's office from work) and that the procedure will go over well and we'll soon get good results!

My secret obsession with Kings of Leon started a couple (?) years ago when that movie Disturbia with Shia LeBouf (another secret obsession) came out. There was a song by them in the soundtrack and I fell deeply in love with them. The soulful, scratchy voice of the lead singer makes me want to crawl in the tub alone in a darkened bathroom with a cold beer and a lit candle. I love music that moves me to an emotion. Poetry has never spoke to me, but the actual sound of a song paired with "groovy" (for lack of a better word) lyrics can alter my sentiments in mere seconds.

My emotions have been rather stagnant since Monday. While I'm trying not to dwell on the doctor's appointment or the upcoming biopsy, I'm having a difficult time finding other things on which to concentrate. Luckily, my love for my job keeps me fulfilled and satisfied for 7.5 hours a day, distracting me from my otherwise saddening fixation.

I did go an talk to my g-ma tonight. Thank God for g-mas; they always know the right words to say at the exactly right times. I told her I am more worried about my mom than myself; regardless of the outcome, I can almost guarantee my mom is already a mess inside with this whole situation. She takes the weight of the world on her shoulders, and I almost regret not waiting to tell her until I found out the results myself. She will probably worry herself to death over the next couple of weeks--she already hand-delivered a beautiful bouquet of roses as a token of her utter devastation and concern for me. I told my g-ma how worried and scared I am; she, of all people, can understand because she went through similar stuff herself and with my g-pa. She said, "Christina, there is nothing you can change now. Whatever is in you--or NOT in you--is already there. It's not going anywhere, and there's nothing you can do about it. Now, you just find out the results and handle them however you can." Ahh....g-mas always bring the peace.

At one point, I mentioned to g-ma feeling all alone because no one in my family has a history with any of this. I said, "I just wish I knew of someone who had to take some sort of hormones for this same issue," and she says, "Well, now, I had to take estrogen to help me out in my 30's." I looked at her, laughed, and said, "Now, Mammaw, don't you think you could've told me that a couple weeks ago when I was asking you about your medical history???"

I was elated tonight to see a response to my "RP: Endometrial Hyperplasia" post on an infertility board I frequent. While I hate that someone else has to deal with such a disease, I was thankful to find SOMEONE out there. I was so excited that I couldn't wait to email her and find out more about her experiences. She is 39 (from her profile), which still leaves be with a ton of questions because I've googled and googled and googled and have yet to find anyone my age with this sort of diagnosis.

Everyone has been so helpful. Even though a lot of you can't post comments because you don't have a profile, I deeply appreciate the support I've gotten. I feel like all I can think about is this situation right now, and I'm getting so tired of hearing myself say "biopsy." But you're all just listening patiently and offering any help I might need (although I still wish Alexis would go do the biopsy for me!!). I don't know what to tell you to say to make it better, I don't know what I need from you to make it seem like a smaller issue, but listening to me whine on and on about it is good enough. And, if you've made it this far, you're already giving me all you can.

I don't know what I did to screw them up, but you should be able to comment now.

As a side note, I had to have blood drawn this morning (normal cycle blood work for hormones and extra blood work done for the biopsy), and they took 12 VIALS OF BLOOD!!! She had to draw it from my hand because my veins in my arms are buried, and by the 10th vial, I was clotting. So, she had to pull the needle out some and shove it back in...Oh, the gross discomfort and pain!! I thought my hand was going to die from the rubber band tied around my wrist. My fingers went cold, and I was trying to concentrate on how nice the furniture was in the room. Not to mention the fact that she kept trying to talk to me, and I knew my breath wasn't good from "fasting" for some of the blood tests.

Sheesh! Events like this should come with a warning label!

...now I've got a uterine biopsy scheduled for Monday. That's right. A B-I-O-P-S-Y.

Dr. M. did the ultrasound and pointed out my ovaries. Under normal circumstances, these bad boys should be white in color with tons of eggs ready to mature and pop out. In my circumstance, the ovaries were black, filled with already matured eggs that were never pushed out. According to him, I have probably never ovulated in my life.

But the real concern was the amount of tissue in my uterus. I am currently on day 6 of this cycle, and by day 6, your lining should be approximately .4-.6 in thickness. Mine was 1.4-1.8 in thickness, which, he said, concerned him. Apparently, there is a disease called endometrial hyperplasia, which is a build up of tissue and uterine lining. The cells in that tissue become "atypical" and "complex" over time, resulting in cancer of the uterus.

Hence the need for a biopsy next Monday. If the cells are not cancerous (jesus, I never thought I'd have to use the word "cancer" in reference to myself!), but they do show endometrial hyperplasia, I will have to do three months of treatment for the excessive lining before I can continue on my path to pregnancy. If I get the all-clear, we should be ok to continue with this cycle. If the cells are cancerous, then I have to see a whole different kind of doctor...

Definitely not what I expected from this appointment.