It's Getting Late, but...

This is for my friends and family who are facing their own mortality: Sharon, John, Sheila, and the rest who know who they are. I love Dylan Thomas's challenge, which feels more like a warm blanket than a thorn in the side. I hope you will read it and find the same comfort. I am working on memorizing it, so that I never have to look it up again. Happy New Year!

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

                                                                                                            Dylan Thomas 1914-1953

A Roller Coaster Rider

Roller coasters we never my favorite as a kid; I preferred the round-and-round rides that made everything out of focus and threatened to make you throw up. I didn't get dizzy on those rides, but the roller coaster transported me to a place where I felt out of control. I remember sitting behind my best friend on the Matterhorn when I nearly wet my pants. The thought that Oh, no! I'm going to pee on Sheila! was the only thing that saved her.

My health has placed me on a roller coaster for years. When it comes to managing the myriad symptoms of autoimmune, I feel out of control more often than not. Since my first diagnosis of autoimmune disorder (at age 39), I have known that there would be no cure. But the first 15 years of playing the roller coaster game were fairly manageable. Lots of good days; occasional bad days. I learned the rules, and when the flare ups came, I'd hold on for the ride knowing it wouldn't last. Nowadays, the roller coaster ride has become a daily adventure. This week I have played by the rules very strictly, with good results. Next week the results may be drastically different, but for now I'm going to share a few of the things that have helped me survive and transcend the life sentence of chronic illness:

• I take my meds morning, midday, and night. Pain meds, aspirin, multi-vitamin, and Celebrex (which I don't have much faith in anymore). The fewer grams of codeine I can ingest, the better for my mental fog. Luckily when I'm teaching, the pain receptors shut down. But the second that bell rings, I'm all too aware of my pain level -- usually an 8 or 9 by the end of the school day.
• Depression looms over everything, but I shove it aside as soon as I'm aware of its presence. Sometimes I miss the signs and it catches up with me. But I have a back up to help: my wonderful husband. He knows how to distract my thinking, to make me laugh, which movie to put on -- a hundred ways to keep my mind off the distress of losing control of my outlook.
• Every few months, I get online and check the latest medical websites (Mayo Clinic, WebMD, National Lupus Foundation, etc) to see if they have found any new treatments, prognoses, research results, or recommendations. After heaving a big sigh, or crying for a minutes, I review the things that I'm doing right, and remind myself of those steps that I can improve upon.
• Diet is a tough one, but I keep plugging away.
• I dedicated myself to a gluten-free diet for 2 years, but recently abandoned it when my pain levels soared and refused to budge. 
• I try to minimize meats and to maximize veggies. 
• My most recent dietary boost has come from the Cancer Diet smoothies that I keep in my fridge and have for breakfast most mornings: juiced cabbage, carrot, celery, orange, plum, apple, grapes, vinegar, and pineapple. I add a Korean vitamin C juice and vanilla yogurt. Picks me up and keeps me going, even when the meds make me nauseous.
• The side effects of the meds are the biggest obstacle: hair falling out, puffy eyes, nausea, insomnia, anemia, digestive stuff, headaches, loss of cognitive accuracy and speed (mental fog), moodiness, and that damned lethargy that makes exercise nearly impossible. Swimming has become my favorite form of exercise because it doesn't hurt when I exert myself. 
• Finally, hot baths are life savers. Heating pads aren't good for chronic pain, but a 20-minute soak can cut my pain from a 9 to a 3 -- miraculous. So I take lots of baths, one or two a day. 

I'm writing this in the middle of the night, because it's something I need to process in a positive way. Since I'm not sleeping anyway, writing it down is good therapy. There's one more thing, however, that I consider a change for the good: I have come to LOVE riding on roller coasters with my husband. He screams like a girl and makes so many crazy sounds that I am undone with laughter through the whole experience. Our favorite is the roller coaster ride at California Adventure. Now if I can just keep that perspective as I go through life, I may be able to endure to the end with a minimum of whining. That's my goal!

The Paradox of Pre-Retirement: Is it time to retire yet?

Alas, the answer to that question is, "Not yet, little lady." After a 25-year career in education, I have learned more from my students than they have learned from me. And the exhilaration that comes with teaching has kept me young and vibrant for many years. Laughing with (and sometimes at) young people is such fun. Sharing ideas and music, opening doors to new ideas and thinking, and hearing their personal stories all serve to feed my soul. . . The body I am stuck with responds otherwise. The harder I work, the less likely I will be able to do so. The more I strive to be organized, the less I am able to accomplish. And no matter how even keeled I pride myself in being, I've become a moody teacher. ("Is she in a good mood or a bad mood today?") This, in itself, is a form of academic terrorism -- keeping the students on edge. Mrs. Glander did it to me and my cronies in the 60s. She looked like Clarence the Angel (It's a Wonderful Life) but acted like Norman Schwarzkof, which kept me on my best behavior. I once saw her explode and then yell at poor Judy Bond, "You STUPID, STUPID girl!" I've never called a student stupid or lazy.  I don't tolerate others doing so either. But I have my own ways of maintaining decorum within the four walls of my classroom. Details to come in a future post.

If I could retire today, I would. The stress is exhausting and has led to chronic illnesses. I remember a long time ago when I had ONE chronic illness. Now there are more than a few, so I just pray to make it through each week. On occasion, that prayer is said at noon. "Help me have the strength to make it to the end of the day." I wish I were kidding or exaggerating. This post is not intended as a pity plea, but as an expose on how professional burnout really affects one.

I've lost interest in doing anything that requires physical effort. Of course, I DO a lot of things that require physical effort, but I'm just not interested in them. I want to conserve every ounce of energy so that I will have enough left at the end of the school year to enjoy time with my family -- especially my grandchildren. They are so special, and I wouldn't want them to see me this way. It would be a pity if they interpreted my lethargy as lack of interest in them. They are all I'm really interested in at this point in life. After serving many people over the years, my body is begging me to stop. My sweet husband is drumming his fingers, waiting for me to do what took him a decade to do -- RETIRE. That will be a wonderful day.  (too tired to write any more at this time)

A Word about Wheat

After 18 months of following a gluten-free (GF) diet, I have a few words to say on the subject. First, I feel and look better, have more energy and stamina, and no longer crave the carbs that once were the bulk of my diet. Second, I've read a lot on this topic since adhering to GF. One expert, Dr. William Davis, has even written a book on the subject of wheat and its effects on the general population.

"The compounds found in wheat are responsible for appetite stimulation, exaggerated rises in blood sugar, and the release of endorphin-like chemicals that get the brain hooked on breads, pastas and crackers, while increased wheat consumption can also be linked to higher incidences of celiac disease, diabetes, heart disease, arthritis and schizophrenia." 

Here are 7 ways wheat might be impacting your health:

1) Removing wheat from one's diet almost guarantees weight loss. Dr. Davis sees an average of 27 lbs lost in 6 months among those who go GF.

2) Wheat contributes to belly fat, the result of increased insulin production needed to metabolize the sugars produced by ingesting a steady diet of gluten.

3) Carbs create cravings every 2 hours, as a result of surges and drops in glucose and insulin that follow eating foods containing gluten.

4) For women, wheat messes with estrogen; a surplus of estrogen caused by excess belly fat raises the risk for breast cancer.

5) Wheat eaters consume an extra 400 calories a day, generally. This can be the equivalent of 42 pounds per year. Ouch. A year or two of that and one is in serious trouble!

6) Other grains (rice, millet, flax, etc) don't have the addictive property of wheat, which Dr. Davis says binds "to the brain's morphine receptors, the same receptors to which opiate drugs bind, producing a sense of reward or mild euphoria."

7) GF foods are not the answer, because many of the starches used in GF foods (corn starch, potato starch, tapioca starch) can produce the same metabolic patterns as wheat-based foods, leaving one hungry every 2 hours. Replace flour-based foods with chicken, fish, fruits, and vegetables, nuts and eggs.

Bok choy…who knew?

The local Outback restaurant nearby serves some delectable side dishes with their steaks. That's how we discovered this wonderful delicacy that has eluded us until now.  We now make these at home: take tiny heads of bok choy and cut them in half. Lay the flat side of the halves on the same grill as the steak and cook 2-3 min -- just until heated through, to give the greens a wonderful flavor while leaving it crisp and fresh. I never knew the flavors and textures of meat and veggies could combine this favorably!

I Love My Students!

Can I just say that I love my students? For so many reasons, I just love these kids:

• One of my 9th graders (whose single mom disowned him when he was 14) came up to me during lunch last week and gave me a big hug. I was so surprised, and delighted that he felt comfortable enough with me to do that. He came in a few days later and asked how my weekend had been. We had a good conversation about what we did over the weekend.
• I gave my drama students (grades 9-12) the St. Crispian speech the first day of class. The second day of class, most of them came with it memorized. Enough so that we could perform it as an ensemble. It was awesome! They are the most cooperative, hard-working group of drama students I've ever had in class.
• Last week, when the stress of directing five 1-act plays hit me, I barked at one of my actresses when she announced she was unable to come to the performance. I love that she accepted my apology, with tears running down her face. "You were so mean," she cried. "I know. I really don't like it when I say mean things. Please forgive me," I said.  Tomorrow she's auditioning for our drama competition team. 
• The district superintendent came into my classroom today, to observe what was going on. The Smartboard was lit up, displaying the theme; the whiteboard was covered with questions; and all students were engaged in the learning process. Each student had an open text book, a notebook they were writing in, and listened carefully as our guests addressed them. I was so proud of their behavior!

Exercise! Exercise!

     No, I'm not talking about getting some. I'm just documenting the most recent Emergency Exercises being conducted in South Korea (ROK).  Every few months our installation puts the military folks through their paces, bedecked in full head-to-toe combat gear, with weapons at the ready. And while every installation has readiness exercises, those in this country do things differently. Why? Well, having an aggressive communist-led nation just 60 miles away probably has something to do with the local modus operandi.

     The day began at 5am, when we heard the air raid sirens on the base (2 miles away), accompanied by the big voice slowly enunciating: "Exercise! Exercise!" Went back to sleep, only to hear the call to action again at 5:45am and 6:30am. We took that in stride, and I made it to class by 8am. During the morning, my students clearly heard machines guns being fired on base. That got our attention -- didn't hear machine guns last time around. More sirens and machine guns throughout the day kept us on alert. At 2pm, the Republic of Korea (ROK) held their own readiness alert, with sirens in every community. Fifteen minutes later, everyone went back to business as usual.
     The Korean people are so resilient - they take in stride these efforts that keep them safe. The exercises set one on alert, without setting them on edge. They endure the bullying from North Korea with stoicism. They put up with a tremendous U.S. presence in their communities and neighborhoods. We in the USA tend to be much less tolerant of the foreigners who "invade" our schools, workplaces, and neighborhoods.  The next time you hear someone complaining about immigrants taking jobs, dropping our standardized test scores, and making too much noise at night, remind them (or yourself) that there are hundreds of thousands of Americans living abroad in much the same way. And most of us don't make the effort to learn the language of the people we're living around.
     I am grateful to be in Korea, where it's nearly impossible to take for granted the security and well-being that our troops provide. I'm happy to be serving those who serve!

Kimchee et al

Traditional Korean foods, handmade by a friend.

     Koreans smell like kimchee. They probably don't realize it -- like Turks don't know they smell of mutton and garlic. All Koreans eat kimchee, everyday, with every meal. So it is no surprise they smell like kimchee. They make it with any vegetable available, soaked in a vat of vinegar, horseradish, garlic, red chili, and a smidge of sugar. They leave this to ferment in covered, brown clay pots on the porch for a given number of weeks. The end result smells a lot like offal. The above photo is a plate of food made by my Korean neighbor, hand delivered to us on a national holiday. If you look closely, you can see a veggie with a bite out of it. 'Nuff said. The white and purple egg-shaped balls are a desert that have no taste, but have the texture of playdough or silly putty. You might also notice there is no bite out of these delicacies. Hmmm. (Took one bite and tossed it.)

Kimchee display in the commissary on base.

     So, what does someone smell like after a steady diet of kimchee? Well, let me share an anecdote from this week: I walked into a small room to make copies on the copy machine, and while waiting for my copies I became aware that the room smelled of skunk. I stopped dead in my tracks, because there's no way I could smell a skunk: there are no skunks in Korea. And since I knew I couldn't possibly smell of skunk, my powers of observation compelled me to turn around and notice a Korean student typing on the only computer in this tiny room.
     Indulge me in one more anecdote, to prove I'm not a racist: I picked up fried chicken from a takeout shop last night. The chicken smelled great. When I got it home, the bag also contained an added surprise -- a container of white chunks in clear liquid. I hoped it might be raw potatoes to fry on stovetop. Alas, when the lid was removed, my dear husband gasped and asked, "Why does the kitchen smell like a dirty diaper?" Then he saw the take-out bonus -- kimchee. Fresh kimchee. Mmmmm.
     I won't be eating kimchee anytime soon.