Random Thought #1

Do you ever have days that start off perfectly fine -- Mary Poppins-like in fact, kind of "practically perfect in every way" -- only to have them go dreadfully wrong only a couple of hours later? Yesterday was like that for me.

I was on the ball and ready to conquer the world starting just after 3:00 a.m. In a couple of hours I managed to answer the business email, sort my personal email for answering later, complete the Monday meme posts, scoop the litterboxes, brush two of the four longhair cats, unload the dishwasher, get a new load of laundry started, and harvest my crops on Farm Town. James Brown's song "I Feel Good" was the anthem of the day. Then a single phone call brought it all crashing down around me.

I wasn't really paying attention to the time, but I think that it was shortly after 9 when Betty's estate attorney called. Evidently, he received a phone call from one of the daughters of Betty's deceased husband because she, after a single visit to Betty in the 8 years that she has lived at the board and care facility, was concerned that I might be mismanaging the trust. I don't think much of anything could have shocked me more than that phone call, but I do know that it's been a very long time since I was as angry as it made me!


This individual has no real relationship with Betty, has not bothered to check up on her except for a phone call last Christmas when she told the caregiver that she would come to visit but never showed up, and now, out of the blue, is "concerned" that her care is not being managed well? Where has this person been all these years? In a neighboring city, certainly not too far away to demonstrate this "concern" by visiting Betty to make sure that she is being well cared for. Last week was the first time in eight -- count them, I said E-I-G-H-T, years that Betty's caregiver ever saw this person! How's that for "concern"?


Random Thought #2

After yesterday's "excitement," I've had a headache that doesn't want to give up the ghost and die. I know it's because the anger is still seething in the pit of my stomach, bubbling to the surface every now and again to remind me how utterly brutal people can be. I can't place the blame for this one on The Brain; nope this misery is my own fault. At least the headache is not one of the Chiari types, so I am left to conclude that this must be the kind of headache that "normal" people get, LOL.


Random Thought #3

Surgery update (yes, Aunt Nola, this is for you): Next Thursday, the 27th, I am scheduled to have the thyroid surgery that should have happened last November but didn't because my pre-op blood work showed an elevated white blood cell count that turned out to be an indicator of the very nasty cold that made itself known on Thanksgiving. I have the pre-op appointment on Monday and barring any WBC issues, I will be AWOL for one day next week. Unless I have a seizure or some other Chiari related complication, the surgery is supposed to be out-patient. I am going to discuss with my doctor the possibility of having it done under a local instead of a general anesthesia as this significantly increases the likelihood that I will get to go home on the same day. Besides, how cool would it be to lie awake on the surgery table while a surgeon slashes a hole in your neck and takes out half of your thyroid gland? Sounds awesome to me!


Random Thought #4

Classes begin next week, and I feel sad. No school for me. I'm retired, remember? No animated discussions about censorship in the public school classroom. No more interesting essays defending the First Amendment as it applies to websites with disgusting content. No more introducing the uninitiated to John Milton's Areopagitica or John Stewart Mill's On Liberty. No more poring over the ALA's list of banned books to see which ones we've read. No more. No more. I'm sad.

And did I mention that I'm pissed off, too?

Tired and REtired accurately describes me for the past couple of days. No sitting around munching on bon-bons and watching soap operas all day here. So much for the glory days of retirement!

Despite really looking forward to the Thursday Thirteen meme, I just didn't have time to get to it today. Not that this is necessarily bad; it just means that I'm having another good day and have the energy and concentration to get some more work done. I might could get used to this!

The visit with my wunnerful wunnerful neurologist, Dr. S, went well. We're changing my anti-seizure medications again as the Dilantin has never really reached the level in my blood stream that it should in order to work effectively. Instead of continuing to increase the dosage of a drug that just ain't cuttin' the mustard as my Grandma used to say, I'll go back on Topamax. I did have some issues with Topamax causing brain fog a while back; however, I'm no longer teaching and required to have unfailing mental acuity on demand. I'll take a bit of fogginess over clusters of seizures any old day. Besides, Topamax has three delightful side effects from which I gained some additional benefit in the past and hope to see again:

• it causes weight loss
• it is also used to treat and prevent migraines
• it will allow me to stop taking two, possibly three, additional medications

The next couple of weeks will be challenging as I take both the Topamax and Dilantin until I reach the previous dosage of 100 mg of Topamax twice daily and start to wean off the Dilantin. Been there, done that -- at least half a dozen times -- and will survive it once again.

After the worry of last week about the possibility of my health insurance lapsing before my retirement application was processed, I am thrilled to report that I received notification from CALPERS today stating that I am officially retired, that my pension payments will begin on August 1, and that my insurance coverage was switched over and effective as of July 1!

No more worries about health insurance for us!

• Sunday was the belated birthday celebration with the family. We had lunch at a really good Chinese restaurant, then cake and coffee at my house. I now have some new books to read (yeah!), new documentaries to watch, and a whole bunch of games to play on the computer.
• Today is starting as a continuation of yesterday with The Brain acting all bossy and me trying to control it with Ibuprofen. If the Ibuprofen doesn't work before too long, I'll call in the big guns -- Cafergot -- because I can't spend another day befuddled, miserable, and glued to the couch. Besides, I've still got some essays to grade.
  
• We don't see hummingbirds in the city very often, so it was thrilling for me when one flew to the jasmine the grows on our fence while I was out watering the yard earlier. It has been at least a year since the last time I saw one here. You'd think with all the grapes starting to take their shape that we'd have lots more birds than we do. They must be getting their food from someone else's yard. Note to self: take a picture of the grapevine!
  
• Fourth Grade BFF Peggy made it safely back to Luxembourg. I don't feel quite so bad about not remembering to take pictures because she admitted to having her camera beside us the whole time, LOL! And people say it's me who has a problem with memory. . .
• This morning's paper has an article about CALPERS, the California Public Employees Retirement System, the agency in charge of my retirement and pension. I already knew that I live in the wealthiest county in the state, but now the OC can add to its noteriety the fact that it's also home to the highest paid pensions in the state. I must have gotten into the system at the wrong time because I won't be able to join the $200,000 club or even the $100,000 club. Yes, folks, those are annual pension numbers!

Happy Tuesday, y'all!

It's a quarter past 3 in the morning, and my first day as a retiree has begun. Honestly, I thought that I would feel far more celebratory than I do. But as I sip my first cup of the coffee for the day and recall the last class of my teaching career, I don't feel like celebrating nearly as much as I feel like crying.

Last night, my students honored me with the gorgeous bouquet in the photo on the left. And as they wrote their exams, the fragrance from the flowers floated around my desk as a macabre reminder that I was attending the funeral of my teaching career. Before I could model one of my favorite literary characters, Anne of Green Gables, and slip into the "depths of despair," I read the messages in the cards that lined my desk:

"Thank you for everything. From day one I thought you were an amazing person we could all learn from. Continue to be amazing!"

"I have loved your class. I want to be just like you when I grow up. Thanks for everything."

"Thanks so much for all of your knowledge you shared with us. My writing has improved drastically, and I am so much more aware of my bad habits. I love writing, so what I learned here will stay with me forever. You are awesome, and I will miss you so much!"

As the exams came in one by one and students began to leave, I couldn't help but feel a profound sense of loss. The excitement of having plenty of free time to pursue things that had been collecting dust in the vault of The Brain turned into the realization that those pursuits all had something to do with teaching and learning! My life, and nearly everything in it, is inextricably linked somehow to education. I am the quintessential geek and wear the badge with honor. I am what I hope I've influenced my students to become -- a lifelong learner.

Among the beautifully wrapped gifts on my desk last night was a package that made me think of a CD or DVD based on its shape. When the class had dwindled down to just four students hastily scribbling in their test books, I began to pack up my things. I picked up the package to put it in my bag but was interrupted by the student who had given it. She asked me to open the gift before we left. As I peeled away the paper, something green came into view. "Green is the color of hope," I thought to myself as I recalled how I had revealed last week that my laptop is green and that I use a color coordinated mouse. Much to my surprise and delight, the package contained the hand-painted sign in the image to the right. "Green is the color of hope," my student reiterated as if she had read my mind.

This simple sign is yet another example of why I love teaching. Midway through the semester, my students had the assignment to analyze a picture book that deals with a controversial topic such as death, adoption, divorce, gay marriage, AIDS, etc. To prepare them for the essay that they would write, I had my students bring to class the book they wanted to work with for an analysis activity using the illustrations. We talked about color symbolism and how the use of color evokes emotion. I wrote several colors on the board -- white, red, black, green, blue -- and we listed the feelings associated with them: white is the color of innocence, purity, goodness, and ignorance; red is the color of love, anger, rage, and wickedness; black is the color of death, evil, and villany; green is the color of greed, jealousy, progress, and hope. In terms of symbolic meanings, especially in medieval literature, green is the color of hope, the promise of things to come like the first green bud poking its head through the frozen mantle. Yes, green is the color of hope. In this case, though, it is the color of hope realized because my student remembered and had found a way to apply her knowledge in the real world. What more could an educator want?

Although I have no more classes to teach or exams to give, my connection to teaching hasn't ended just yet; I still have grading to finish and final grades to calculate and post. When the grading is done, I will close the door on my years of teaching at California State University, Fullerton. It will be over.




Though I may flounder as I try to reshape myself in an non-academic setting, I need only remember my own lesson to become a successful retiree:

Yesterday is one for the history book of my life. Not quite "a date that will live in infamy," my 50th birthday was memorable nonetheless.

Wow -- I am now 1/2 a century old! That sounds so much more ominous than just plain old 50, doesn't it? I now qualify to receive junk mail from the AARP. A quick visit to their website revealed to me that by virtue of having completed 50 years of life, I can still be a productive member of society by, among other things, volunteering to help renovate my neighborhood. Now that sounds all nice and good; however, if I help to renovate my neighborhood, who the heck will renovate my house? I also learned that I'm now old enough to become an advocate for the aging and aged, but I'm not quite old enough to qualify for Senior Citizens' discounts at restaurants. That hardly seems fair!

In addition to qualifiying for membership in the AARP, I am now officially eligible for the retirement I've been planning for the past year. I'm still not sure how to feel about retiring at such a young -- yes, I said young! -- age. Retirement shouldn't happen for another fifteen years, under normal circumstances. But these are not normal circumstances; they are times more suited to a Charles Dickens novel:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."
--Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities

Now there is something to do during my retirement! I would love to reread the entire body of Charles Dickens' work. If I won't be teaching literature, I can at least return to reading it just for the pure pleasure it provides. Retirement is sounding better with every sentence!

Retirement will mean no more grading stress or irritation when students don't get their work done on time. But it will also mean not sharing semesters with them, discovering their composition strengths and showing them to overcome their weaknesses. It means no more animated discussions about censorship in America's classrooms and textbooks or introducing a new crop of future teachers to the possibilities of parental challenges to books that they know, love, and might want to share with their own students. It means no more expressions of appreciation like the wonderful gift that my students gave me yesterday. We took the photo last week at the urging of one of the girls who is actually from Texas but attending the university in California because her husband is in the military and stationed here. She scrapbooks and really wanted some photos of our class to preserve on the pages of one of those gorgeous scrapbooks that have become so popular in recent years. I asked her to share the photos with me so that I could blog them, but the photos never appeared in my email box. I even included a friendly reminder when I returned her graded research paper over the weekend. But still no photos. Now I know why!

Colorful expressions of good wishes for my retirement, thanks for a great semester, and accolades for my teaching style surround the smiling faces of me and my students. And to think that just last week I was ticked off at them all I could have, as my grandfather used to say, spit wooden nickels! It's little things like this that make teaching the most noble and fulfilling career known to humanity.

I now have a beautiful and thoughtful reminder of my last semester of teaching hanging on the wall just above my computer, where I can steal a quick glance whenever I start to feel unfulfilled because I'm not teaching any longer. To those of you who shared the Spring '09 semester with me and read but don't comment here, I want to say thank you once again. Your generous and giving spirits have made my final semester as an educator one of the most memorable of my career. Oh, and before I forget, if any of you are interested in seeing one of my newly acquired documentaries on J.S. Mill's On Liberty, just let me know! (ROFLMAO!!!!!)