Clinging to the Summer Days

It's very hard to explain my feelings on work and summer right now. It's like I'm torn between two worlds, both of which have their attraction. One world is summer, and the lack of any deadlines to get things done. I can read, watch TV, a movie, play computer, read blogs, or whatever at my own leisurely pace and with plenty of time to spend. The other is the oncoming school year. I'm looking forward to it a great deal. Yet at the same time I'm trying to squeeze out the last minutes of relaxation before the sudden storm descends...

Those who do not teach probably cannot relate to what I am talking about. But suffice it to say that once the school year starts, leisurely activities take very much of a back burner to the demanding schedule of a teacher. Not to mention my extracurricular activities and duties involving drama. Some weeks are busier than others, but I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that the average work week is between 50 and 60 hours for me. I know that's not a big deal for many who are self-employed, but maybe it adds perspective for those of you used to an 8-4, 9-5, or whatever other job in which you usually work around 40 hours a week. Don't think I'm complaining, because I'm not. I love my job! I'm just stating a fact that might help you appreciate my torn feelings. It's because I'll have so little opportunity to enjoy the activities later that I'm trying to pile them all in at once. Like a drug fix or something.

Even as I try to relax, there's also plenty to be done to prepare for the year. That's another reason I don't want the summer to end. I want to spend more time preparing/finding lessons, taking notes on my World History text, finding sources, etc. It seems there is never enough time to reach the goals I set for myself when it comes to planning the perfect lessons, or what have you. It's quite a dilemma. Do you frantically work now and push aside relaxation time that you know will never come during the year? Or do you set aside prep work now because you know things can't get much more hectic than they already will be once the year starts, so you might as well just plan things then? You might sacrifice a little bit of quality, but at least you get some last minute vacation while you still have time to breathe...

I think I'll choose the latter... Until my conscience smites me and I stop watching a DVD or reading a book to return to classroom prep...

Sedation is a Beautiful Thing

The surgery is over, and there are now five holes in my mouth. It's taking some getting used to. Fortunately, I've had little pain, though one side of my mouth has been a little sore. And I've been popping drugs here and there, which has probably helped keep things in check.

For the veterans who have been through multiple surgeries, it's probably not a big deal to get hooked up to all kinds of monitors and drugged to sleep. For me, it was a new experience. They put a monitor on a wrist and an ankle, and another on a finger before the surgery. I could then see my heart beating and the beats per minute registering on the little monitor. Pretty cool. Then the surgeon came in and after a few preliminaries told me they would give me some laughing gas to help me relax. They put a mask thing over my nose, but I didn't feel much different from it. They also hooked up another monitor for my breathing. Then they found a vein to plug the IV into, and started that.

It's amazing what that sedation did to me. I have no memory of falling asleep. The next thing I knew I felt something going on in my mouth, and I opened my eyes a little. I think the surgeon may have said to give me more, and I went back to sleep, or maybe they were just finishing up. I don't remember. But then my Mom was coming into the room and they were explaining things about post-surgery care and such. It's a good thing she was there to listen because I don't think much was registering in my brain, though I was conscious. Then I walked out, and it was all over but the recovery part. Some forty-five minutes of time were a complete blank on my memory.

We drove to the drugstore and got a prescription for Vicodin, which I started taking to keep the pain down. I think because I started it soon, the pain never really started. Some discomfort on one side of the mouth, where apparently the surgeon had to do a little more digging to get the teeth out. Other than that it was quite tolerable. I kept putting ice on and off at various times throughout the day to keep the swelling down.

I stopped taking Vicodin after only three doses, and have dialed back to less addictive drugs such as tylenol and excedrin. Apparently Vicodin is a pretty potent painkiller, but also potentially addictive. Coincidentally, I saw part of a Law and Order episode on Monday evening that talked about Hydrocodone as a pain killing drug that gives a high something akin to heroine. What do you suppose are the two ingredients in Vicodin? That's right, hydrocodone and acetaminophen. But I never felt high from taking the drug, so I don't know if Law and Order is off again, whether there's not enough of it in the dosage to get high, or whether the acetaminophen keeps things tame. Oh well. So much for feeling like a druggie.

Now I'm starting to crave more solid foods, as I haven't had any of that variety since before the surgery. Still taking things slowly. What compounds the difficulty in the return to normal eating is the stitch, or suture, that I have on the roof of my palate at the front and middle part of my mouth. This is practically in the exact spot your tongue tends to touch on the roof of your mouth when you talk and form certain letters. I'm sure those of you who have had your wisdom teeth out cannot relate to this, as it is where a lesion I had was removed and is unrelated to the wisdom teeth. This additional wound makes it very tricky to try and take solid nourishment when such nourishment tends to be rubbed right up against this spot. I'm leery of ripping the stitch out accidentally by too violent chewing, or whatever. So for now I've survived on things like pudding, yogurt, ice cream, shakes, soup, juice, a smoothie, and soggy crackers. I think it'll be awhile before I tackle the fried chicken...

Getting Drugged and Drilled and Meditation on Sleep

The countdown to oblivion has begun. In less that 12 hours I expect to be getting drugged up a good bit. For tomorrow is the day that I undergo invasive oral surgery. So invasive that I expect there will be five bleeding wounds in my mouth before long. Ouch.

In case you haven't figured it out, I am getting my wisdom teeth out tomorrow. This has been something the experts have been advising for some time, but I have put it off. Why? For one, it's quite expensive. Those who think that teachers get great dental coverage can think again. At least it isn't the case in my school district. I will be paying hundreds of dollars out of pocket on this one, I'm afraid.

Scheduling has been the other factor in the delay. Who wants to get their wisdom teeth out in the middle of the school year? You do if you're a student, but not if you're a possessive teacher who likes their students enough to not want to plan an extended absence from them. Not to mention the work it would take to prepare lessons for some possibly incompetent sub... And earlier in the summer didn't work too well either, given various schedules. So it's happening eight days before I return to school!

So tomorrow I'm going under the drill, or knife, or whatever instruments they'll be using on my mouth. And since it was only a few bucks more, I'm opting for IV sedation, which will make me somewhat less aware of my surroundings than other anesthesia options. I was basically told it's the next best thing to getting knocked out (it's hard to do that with dental work because usually you have an oxygen mask on you when that happens, but that's difficult if the surgeon wants to work in the mouth!) Call me a baby, but I decided I wanted to be as unaware of what's going on as possible. Actually, part of it has to do with this phobia I have about swallowing when I'm not supposed to swallow. I seem to have a very sensitive, sometimes involuntary swallowing mechanism that tends to make things interesting whenever I go to the dentist and they poke around in my mouth for more than a minute without giving me a chance to rinse out. I really didn't want to be conscious enough to be swallowing at all sorts of complicated times, so I'm hoping I'll be knocked out enough not to bother the surgeon.

I've been wondering if this whole drug thing will be similar to taking illegal drugs and getting high, but I have a sneaking suspicion it won't be anything nearly as exciting. Of course, I will never know if it's AS exciting as illegal drugs. But will it be any exciting? Probably not. Oh well. At least I shouldn't feel anything during the surgery.

In case you're wondering about the fifth wound, I'm also having something removed from my mouth that's not supposed to be there. It's one of those possibly-cancerous-but-most-likely-not-but-we-might-as-well-get-it-out-of-there-to-test-it things. Since the surgeon will be digging in my mouth a fair amount on his quest for my teeth, it makes sense to have him remove the other thing at the same time.

Since I expect to be sleeping somewhat more than usual tomorrow, it makes sense to digress a little and give some thoughts on sleep. I've thought a bit about the reason why we need it. Have you ever wondered why it is that we've been designed to spend nearly a third of our lives in an unconscious state? At first it seems there might be a flaw in our bodily design. Wouldn't it have been much more efficient of God to have created humans without the need for sleep? I suspect He could have done it. In fact, we all could accomplish a lot more if we didn't have to sleep. If you rebell against such a thought, and think "But I love sleep! I'm so glad we need it!" consider this: you love it in part because you need it. If you didn't it would seem silly to spend time sleeping. Now don't get me wrong, I love sleep as much as the next person, probably even a little more. But it is a bodily function that seems inefficient.

That God didn't design us to operate 24 hours a day leads me to think there's a lesson in it somewhere. I've concluded that it's a daily reminder set in nature by the Creator that we are not as independent as we'd sometimes like to think ourselves to be. We can't be supermen. We're needy. We're so fragile that we'd quickly fall apart without constantly stopping for at least a few hours in every 24. Like the rainbow and its reminder concerning floodwaters, the need for sleep is like a big fat message emblazoned across the sky and given daily that says "You are dependent upon my design! No matter how smart you think you may be, no matter how much you may displace Me, the need for rest shows your intrinsic neediness!" Such dependence runs counter to the basic message of the serpent, and continues to be a warning against any who would be inclined to be proudful.

Another good thing about sleep, methinks, is the metaphor it provides for how we should trust God. You can't really do anything when you're sleeping. The work of bodily rejuvenation is not up to any conscious effort on your part. Similarly, we need to trust the Father with total reliance with whatever our needs may be. You are in a good spot if you have come to trust God so completely about something that it is as if the need itself has "gone to sleep." And if you are "asleep" to worrying about such need, so much the better.

The Vanity Plates that Make No Sense

Sometimes I just don't get it. If you know me, you're not surprised. I can be slow. But even with factoring in my thick headedness, sometimes people are way too cryptic for their own good. Maybe someone can explain.

Specifically, I don't get vanity plates that make no sense. Why do people waste their money? Do they think they're cool? Because when I don't get it, and I think that most everyone else in the world doesn't understand either, I think it borders on stupid. Or at the least it is a waste of money and human resources. The prisoners that work on constructing the things could have been better employed.

If you have a vanity plate, don't take offense. And don't call me a hypocrite if you happen to recall the time when I had a vanity plate. I think there are plenty of legitimate uses for your own special plate. They include:
1. Clever uses of language that describe a person or family's condition, a nickname, or describe the vehicle, such as "fbigrad," "4our9," "4ian," "badguy," "eatdust."
2. An expression of your devotion to some hobby or interest, assuming that it is well known enough that a fair number of people will understand to what your license plate refers, even if many others are left in the dark. Examples include "soxfan," "patsfan," "rdsxnatn," "frodo," "24rocks," or "04wewon." Such expressions can engender feelings of love (or even hate) for the driver, as the plate expresses their personality in a meaningful (because it's comprehensible) way.
3. Some Bible verse or well known truism.

There are probably a few other categories under which a vanity plate can be effectively used. My belief is that it should make sense to a larger group than your circle of friends, as it seems a waste of money to buy something that 99.99 percent of all people who see it are left clueless as to its meaning.

One recent example of such apparent waste drove by me the other night as I returned from working my summer job: "5-4 us." What in the world does that mean? I puzzled over it, and am still wondering what it means. Possibilities include:

1. The couple that own this car are both 5 feet four inches tall.
2. It is commemorating some famous sports win in US Olympic history. But I have looked up the 1980 U.S. Hockey win over the Soviet Union, and that was not the score. They beat the Soviets 4-3, then Finland 4-2.
3. This is some code for the next planned terror attack on the US, and the driver is attempting to awake any sleeper cells who will see it that now is the time to act.
4. Someone is keeping track of the ideologies of the Supreme Court justices, and they think that a majority of them line up with their particular point of view.
5. It's the final score in some youth hockey game, or maybe little league baseball tournament, about which only a few know.

Beyond this, I am stumped. And I'm mystified as to why people waste their money this way. Why attempt to educate someone if your vocabulary is incomprehensible?

In the Know

Have you ever watched a tv program or video where you know the writer has little knowledge or experience about an industry or work environment because you work in said environment and know it doesn't operate that way? You then feel smug because you know better. Or maybe you're angry because your vocation is misportrayed. Or maybe you just laugh because it's so ridiculous.

This doesn't happen to me often, probably because I've only worked in so many types of jobs and they aren't often mischaracterized. But the other day there was a glaring error on Law and Order. Yes, I'm afraid I've become a little bit of an addict to this crime detecting show while working this summer. Anyway, on the show there was a substitute teacher who was suspected of a horrible crime involving a student. The principal calls him in and is like "I've already initiated the process with the school board to have you fired," or words to that effect. That's ridiculous! To my knowledge there is no such hoop that needs to be jumped through to get a sub fired! They have fewer rights than a non-tenured teacher. The principal just says go home and don't come back and it's done. (There may be a more involved process for getting you off a school district's substitute list.) It was kind of ridiculous to think about a school board having to take time during their meeting to approve the firing of a substitute. In fact, it was almost laughable, at the same time it was apparent that at least one writer probably didn't do their homework on the intricacies of hiring and firing substitute teachers.

Ok. My rant (though it's not really a rant, as I'm not particularly bothered, only intrigued by the apparent ignorance out there) for the day is over. Consider yourselves educated on the lack of rights of substitute teachers. You are now in the know.

Cockroaches and Ghost Tours

I've had some fun over the past week plus. I found a gullible student on my floor, whom I'll call Charlie. I was wrapping up some marshmallows Charlie had left on the counter, and decided to warn him about cockroaches. Charlie is from Colorado, and although he's a world traveler and has been to about 30 countries (and his family is renovating some really old place in Greece), he didn't know anything about cockroaches. I warned him that they are vicious. They go after food, and human blood. That worried him a little. I told him he should ask another one of the RA's about his story concerning cockroaches. So off Charlie went to get the scoop. Problem was the other RA was on the phone. So I decided to fill him in. I told him this guy had woken up in the middle of the night to feel something crawling over his leg. He turned on the light to find eight cockroaches sucking on his leg. It was really bad, too. Cockroaches are harder to get off than ticks. They had to saw them off, and they had sucked a pint of blood.
A little incredulous, Charlie nevertheless swallowed the story hook, line, and sinker. Next thing I know he's bringing all of his food from his room into the kitchen area, so it'll be away from him at night. He's telling me he's going to be checking under his bed for cockroaches. And he's warning his friends across the hall about the cockroaches around. He's so convincing that they're believing him. I could hardly believe he swallowed the whole story, as I couldn't keep a straight face part of the time I was telling it. I finally relented and told him I was just joking.

We had another ghost tour this year. I reprised my role as crazy man who jumps out of the woods at students walking a dark and scary path, and then told the same story as last year (see last year's post for more details). In the woods I had people falling to the ground in fright or because they were so startled. Screams abounded. I guess several girls cried they were so scared. One told me her life really did flash before her eyes, she thought she was going to die. She was petrified. Apparently I was so terrifying that someone decided to write on a whiteboard on one of the girls floors "[my name] is mean," or something to that effect. I had fun! And that's it.

Language and Contradictions

I've been thinking recently about the tendency of some people to use language which contradicts their position. This should not be. You have the whole debate over whether some guy who blows himself up along with a bunch of Israelis, or Iraqis, is a suicide bomber or a homicide bomber. You also have a battle over how to describe people who believe abortion is murder. Whether you call them pro-life or anti-abortion often reveals your own perspective on the issue.

The point is not to argue the abortion issue. But regardless of your position, I am interested by the way people naturally describe the unborn. "I'm having a baby." "I'm having a boy or girl." "I have three children, with another on the way." "I'm expecting a baby/child."

While the anti-abortion/pro-life side is quick to point out the contradiction in pro-abortioners talking about an unborn child as a "baby" when it kicks or gurgles in the womb or whatever if it's only a fetus, I have heard little discussion about the contradictory language those who want to protect the unborn use. Why don't they classify the unborn among their children? It shouldn't be "I have three kids and am expecting another," but "I have four kids, one of whom is still inside me." It shouldn't be "I'm expecting another baby," but "I have another baby. You will see it in 7 months" (or whenever the due date is). Not using such language only plays into the hands of those who argue the unborn are worth less inside the womb than out. If those who believe that life begins at conception are to be consistent with their beliefs, their use of language in describing the unborn ought to change.