Overwhelmed

Help! I Need Somebody! Help! Not Just Anybody!

Although I try to present myself as a lady of leisure, my life is actually quite busy. My sleeping schedule is completely messed up so I tend to sleep during the day when Dave is at work and Betsy at school, and work during the night when Betsy and Dave are asleep. Of course, this does not always work out for the best as I often have appointments during the day that interrupt my day time sleep, or my Lupus fatigue hits in the night and I actually go to sleep while it is still dark.

What work am I doing? Crazy work. Yesterday I blogged about myself and my desire to collect college degrees and how I was currently in school. My Montessori Teacher Training program is not for the soft of heart. It is designed to be a Master's level program and once you are finished you can earn a M.A. degree just by taking a few extra courses. It is a 26 month program that is mostly on-line with approximately two-week residencies each summer. You must complete an internship at a Montessori school accepted by the training program.

Most of my fellow students are teaching right now, and went to residency in the beginning of the summer. Due to the fact that I am still trying to learn how to walk I am doing things a bit differently. But, I am full on in when it comes to the on-line course work. Every week we watch video lectures. They can add up, and just as if I was in a regular classroom I need to take notes and listen carefully or I will never make it through. The reading list is extensive. Currently we are reading "The Absorbent Mind" by Maria Montessori. It is far from "easy reading." We are also required to answer discussion questions and respond to our fellow cohort's responses.

Then there are various class assignments. We have a Montessori Philosophy paper coming due on October 1st. We were assigned partners to fashion a definition for the question, "What is Montessori?" Because we are all in different parts in (and out of) the U.S., we must meet on Skype, the Class Chat Room, Phone, etc... My desk is cluttered with post-its reminding me to not forget our weekly chat (I've missed it twice already!!), along with papers needing to be added to my various Montessori albums. I am usually a very organized person. But like I have been saying all year, I think I seriously lost some brain cells while on the ventilator because I feel slow. It's like my brain is always two feet behind me.

So I am in school. But I am also teaching school. I can't teach at a "flesh and blood" school, but nothing is preventing me from teaching virtually. I teach at an online university as an adjunct. Each course runs for five weeks. I am responsible for grading, answering questions, beating my head against something hard, and generally moaning and wailing over the written assignments scheduled for each course. I have learned that there are more people in this world who cannot put a sentence together that I care to contemplate.

I spend a lot of time sending out e-mails attempting to get students to even turn in their assignments in the first place. I do my best to cajole them into reading the assignment instructions (which sometimes I believe never happens), and I constantly remind them that I am the "go to" person for all things writing related. Then on grading weeks, because I procrastinate, I stay up all night grading their papers and lamenting all over again about the future state of the nation.

This "job" adds to my post-it collection as I keep a running tab on who is late turning in an assignment, who possibly plagiarized, and who is on my "please help me now" list because I cannot even read their typed writing. But it brings in extra money, and in my current condition extra money is required and money outside the home is not going to happen. It is not ideal, but I am lucky to have any work. Plus, sometimes I do get through to a student. When I get a "thank you" e-mail at the end of a course I do feel satisfaction. Yes, it can be good to be a teacher.

But, there is more to my life then on-line student and on-line teacher. Twice a week I go to Personal Torture sessions with my friend Jacob. Okay, so it is really Physical Therapy, but when I am shaking and hyperventilating I do tend to think of it as a form of torture. The kicker is, if I want to walk, I have to do PT full on, both at the gym with Jacob the Punisher, and at home where I can moan and wail as loud as I want AND always listen to my favorite music! Jacob is actually an amazing physical therapist, and since he has this blog address he might actually read this. He will then probably assume I am drunk or drugged as I would never say such a thing to his face.

Besides PT I have a recurring appt. with the Psychologist, nicknamed Dr. Icky (no, he is not icky, it has to do with his name!). I am not embarrassed to admit I need a psychologist. If you had been through what I've been through (almost dying, leg hacked off) you would need one too! Then there is usually one more miscellaneous appt. from one of my other many, many doctors. Lately the urologist and I have become close as we have been battling my two month UTI that has refused to respond to three different antibiotics.

Remember: Whack The Mole!

Then there is my family. Yes, I do have one of those. I have the best family in the universe. I have my extended family, Mom, Dad, Sister, Brother-in-Law, niece and nephew, and my nuclear family, my husband Dave and my 7 year old daughter, Betsy. I do my best to be "on" in the late afternoon/evening when Dave and Betsy come home. Betsy and I like to work on her homework together although I must admit that Dave has become very good at this task. When we cook, Dave helps me in the kitchen as some tasks are not always one-leg friendly. My favorite thing to do is listen to Betsy chatter about her day, or about what she is "building, drawing, constructing, inventing" currently. I am sure you will hear a lot about Bets in the future!

Yes, it may seem like "Diane World" is filled with sleep and leisure, but it just ain't so. Which brings me back to the title of this post: Overwhelmed. Before I started writing this I was looking through requirements for certain things, and cataloging a few things I am behind in with my course work. I had just sent out several e-mails to students for various reasons. One was from a student who said she would be late with her work because she was going to be on pain meds. I tried to be understanding but I wanted to yell, "Bitch! I'll see you your pain meds and add a muscle relaxer!" I refrained and instead wished her a good recovery.

Why have I added a blog into all this mess? I've been told I need to write more, and a regular journal just isn't my style anymore. Perhaps this blog will help me work out some of my anxiety and worries when I start feeling like the world is caving in on me. I actually do feel better as I wind this thing down. I really have to start making these posts shorter. All in good time. Now let's get back to work!

Who Am I?

The Answer is NOT 24601!

For all of you who understood that opening subtitle: Bravo and Brava! For the rest of you, go get some culture peeps!

Alright, we are going to discuss me. Why? Because I need an ego boost. Actually, it occurs to me that writing a blog post that is basically a short autobiography is probably not the best idea at this point. I would assume that right now only people who already know me are reading this blog. Therefore you can skip this post and move ahead. Well, as soon as there is another "ahead."

You may have noticed that I am a little weak on the blogging. I have several half written posts waiting in the "save" area for me to finish. But I keep thinking and rethinking about the subject matter. I tend to over think. Some people call this worrying. I call it "cautious living."

I realize that blogger gives you a nice spot for your profile where you can lists things about yourself. But I don't want people to know me that way. I want people to read this so that maybe they can understand why I feel an urge to sing and dance in the rain, howl like a wolf, and roll around on the ground pretending to be a pig. Yes, I have done all three. Then again maybe this will give you no further insight. Ah well...

Chapter One

"I am born," or is it, "I was born." Darn it. I can't remember. Anyone have a copy of David Copperfield around? Don't worry. I'm not really going to start exactly that way. Again, if you don't get the reference go pick up David Copperfield and read it.

How bout we simply say that I was born in neither a city nor a state but definitely within the contiguous 48 states of America. Put your thinking caps on those delightful heads. Do you have it? Yes! I was born in Washington D.C. which is its own entity belonging neither to Maryland or Virginia. I spent the first eight years of my life in Maryland before being dropped into the nether regions of hell: Florida.

I have grown to love things about Florida. But not the summer. The eight month long summer. The air that is so hot and thick that you can barely breathe it without passing out. Getting into a car that has been sitting out all day is a test in Faith. Air conditioning is not a nice to have, it is an absolute necessity.

My family is a liberal yet somewhat traditional American type family. I grew up with my Mom and Dad and one somewhat obnoxious four year older sister. She has become less obnoxious with age. I attended a hodge podge of schools. My favorite school years were spent at Barrie Day School, a Montessori School in Silver Spring, Maryland. I then went to public school (in Florida) from 3rd grade to a quarter of the way into 7th grade. It was at that point that I was yanked out and placed in an all girls Catholic school. (No, I am not Catholic, just Presbyterian!). I went to the Academy of the Holy Names until my High School graduation. Then I went on to a Catholic College for my B.A., and finally the University of South Florida for my two M.A. degrees.

Yes, I have a lot of degrees. I like to collect them. I like going to school. Currently I am in school taking my Montessori teacher training for ages 6-12. Has all this schooling made me one iota smarter? I don't think so. But I have learned some helpful lessons: statistics is not a nightmare and I actually enjoyed it, sometimes the path you want to take is not the path you need to take, and finally, yes, you will have to pay back those student loans...every damn cent.

I grew up as shy, quiet, and bookish. I was told I was smart and therefore was expected to perform smartly. Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn't. I fought a lot with my Mom. I cowered underneath my Dad's stern glare. And I alternated between loving and not loving my sister. However, over all, when we all piled on my parents bed (dog included) and talked and laughed, I realized that I was a lucky girl with a loving family.

Growing up I had a lot of "mystery illnesses." I would run fevers when nothing else seemed wrong with me. I would get unexplained rashes. Most of all, I would complain about being tired, too tired to empty the dishwasher, too tired to feed the dog, too tired to do my homework. This led to disagreements from the parental units. When the hormones of puberty kicked in everything ramped up a notch.

But I got lucky, or actually unlucky. My Mother noticed that I had a swollen joint in my elbow and I was unable to bend my arm to the full extension. I was taken to All Children's Hospital at the tender age of 15 (please everyone get out a hanky, this is my feel sorry for me moment). There they poked and prodded me, they stole blood from my beautiful veins and then after a bit of magical doctoring they came up with an answer: Mixed Connective Tissue Disease! What the bejeebers is that??? I am not going to waste time defining it. If you are interested go to google.

All Children's told my Mom to take me to an adult Rheumatologist (the type of doctor who handles these kinds of things) as I was practically an adult already (I wish I could say they were trying to flatter me!). We got lucky and found someone who I think is the best Rheumy ever. I still see her today, over twenty years later. MCTD is given out when the doctors know that one of several auto-immune diseases could be present but as to which one they are not totally sure. So they wait and watch to see what symptoms you manifest so they can then pin point the culprit.

It didn't take long to find my bad boy. Shortly after I turned 16 I developed Pericarditis (swelling of the lining around the heart). There were no more questions. I had Systemic Lupus.

In one thing I was vindicated. I had been called lazy for years due to my desire to NOT do the chores when asked. The doctor waved her magic wand and told my parents that during those times I actually was too physically tired to move. My body was begging for rest and all the times I said that I would "do it later" were not motivated by my unwillingness to work, but my body's unwillingness to take another step. I can't began to tell you how good that felt.

I am stopping here because this is very long and many of you might not have even made it this far. If you did, thank you. I appreciate it. I am not sure if I will continue this topic in my next post, or save the continuation for a later date. At least now you know a bit more about me, and a bit more of where I am coming from. Adios! I got to go pet a cat.