The last couple of weeks have been rough. Especially rough. I knew school starting back up would be hard. I didn't realize how hard though. Last year I was on medical leave, so school starting was just the "official medical leave" start date. I was still a school employee, it was still my job, my classroom, my life. It was just on hold for a bit. This year, everything is different. I'm not a school employee anymore. It's not still my job. It's not still my classroom. That's no longer my life. The impact of this reality has been more difficult than I ever realized or imagined.
The things that have triggered me the most are things I had not even thought about being such severe triggers. All the "First Day of School" pictures on social media felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. Each one was another pull on my heartstrings because I should have been at school to see all those shining faces, nervous smiles, and sparkling white new shoes. But I wasn't; I was at home trying not to think about what the date signified.
Then, there was the unfortunate timing of my husband driving past the school, the school where I had taught for the past 14 years, on our way home from my doctor's appointment last week. The students I'd had in my last year of teaching were outside at noon rec. MY kids were outside at noon rec. Even writing about it has my stomach in knots and my chest feeling tight because leaving that classroom behind still brings me physical pain each and every day.
But this week, it was the silliest thing yet that really twisted the knife into my gut. I began to see people sharing a promotion for a "Free Drink at Scooters" with the presentation of a school ID. It hurt. Plain and simple. And yes, I know it's silly. But that didn't change how much it hurt. Then, yesterday, THE DAY, seeing all of the teacher friends I have or follow on social media sharing pics of their free drinks brought me to actual tears. I had to just close my phone and not even look, not check my notifications, just remove the trigger completely. It wasn't about the drink, it wasn't about getting something for free, and it's not like I couldn't and didn't get a yummy coffee drink today; it's that it was one more thing I'm no longer a part of because of Long Covid.
It's that the identity I have had for the past 22 years is gone, and I don't know who I even am anymore...
A symptom I've been battling since 3-4 days before my actual positive Covid test, which we now realize was my very first symptom of Covid, is severe, pitting edema which has now developed into Lymphedema. It has been uncontrollable despite lymphedema therapy, diuretics, compression, and all the things used to treat lymphedema. A big part of lymphedema care is keeping the skin well-moistured because it gets stretched so tightly from the swelling. If the skin breaks, lymphatic fluid weeps out, and this provides a beautifully fertile, absolutely ideal, breeding ground for infection.
Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I developed a rash that turned into blisters that turned into open wounds, and after not feeling well for a couple of days, and then having visible signs of infection along with significant pain, I went to the ER, and sure enough, I had an infection in my leg. Treatment and healing are a long, uncomfortable process, and getting rid of the infection along with preventing it from returning while the wounds on my leg heal are the biggest and most challenging health priorities right now.
It seems that's what my life has become; one challenge after another...but...
I recently read a quote that said: Friends are like rainbows; they're always there to cheer you up after a storm.
I have to say, that is absolutely true.
At the worst of times you really do learn who your truest friends are, and let me tell you, I was BLESSED WITH THE BEST. From the friend who commented, "Once a teacher, always a teacher," on my post about Scooters to the ones who gifted us with an amazing surprise when we least expected it to those who go out of their way to ask my daughter how I'm doing when they see her at her job to those who started a GoFundMe for me when I spent 11 months battling with my Long-term Disability Insurance, to the ones who bring me coffee and stay for a visit, randomly text me just to check in, and show me dozens of little ways that I'm thought of and loved, there just aren't enough words or blog posts or poems or songs or flowers or hearts or hugs or thanks to show how much it means.
To all of you, and you know who you are, I truly do know how lucky I am to have you in my life, and I hope every single one of you knows how humbled I am, how full of gratitude, and how truly thankful I am to be loved and cared for by you.
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