Remember: You Always Feel This Way

I am so sorry I disappeared for a bit there. I kept reminding myself, September and October ALWAYS feel overwhelming. It is very hard to have any brain energy left at the end of the day. I see light at the end of the tunnel, though! I am feeling slightly less underwater with school things. 

This will be a sort of mishmash of updates so that I can get back into the swing of things. 

- In September I had a physical, and my cholesterol and triglycerides were high (again). There's apparently an algorithm that the medical people use to determine your cardiac event risk, and I hadn't yet met the threshold for a statin. But, the numbers consistently rising make me nervous because I do have family members who had heart attacks in their 40s and 50s (some survived, some didn't). My doctor sent me for a calcium score test. They basically do a CT scan of your heart with electrodes attached, and somehow they can see if there is plaque forming in your arteries inside your heart. You want a score of 0. Not-so-fun fact, this is not covered by insurance typically. It's "new," so hopefully they will soon, because it DEFINITELY is less expensive to be preventative than to put stents in and whatnot!) 

My score was not 0. It wasn't hideous, but it was enough to make me freak out for a moment. There are the beginnings of plaque in my heart. Which is sobering, but not all that surprising given my crap genetics. I am now on a statin. Another not-so-fun fact: if you have hEDS, statins can exacerbate joint pain. Which happened at first, but I'm on a low dose and after two weeks it seemed to abate, so I guess I'm good. I'm also eating a ton of chia seeds in everything (which means I probably have chia seeds in my teeth more often than not). I am also making a point to go on more walks even when I am tired from school. 

I also went off my blood pressure medicine, because I was put on it during The Year of Disaster, 2017, when my blood pressure was off the charts and my stress level was insanely high. I no longer have the same stressors, so I asked about it. So far, so good. Off one medicine just to add another... sigh. 

- I read a book recently (horror, I try to read all horror during Spooky Season) and it had an interesting situation. I will put the name of the book at the bottom*, it's not exactly a spoiler but it does play into the plot, but the quote that made me go HUH! and immediately reread it over and over was this: 

"'People always say that -- that children are what gives your life purpose.' The woman's face crumples up then, and she waits a few seconds before speaking again. 'I already had purpose,' she whispers."

Basically, this character wanted a childfree life, but her husband changed his mind, and she ends up pregnant but not thrilled about it. I thought it was SO REFRESHING to have a book flip pregnancy on its head and have a strong female character be so much more than her pregnancy and have conflicted feelings. 

- A friend of mine is pregnant. Pregnant with the last frozen embryo, the last cycle, after a long time of heartache. She told me privately via text and I called her immediately, because I was so hoping it would work out for her. I honestly didn't feel sad in that moment, at all, and I felt a marvel in how time has smoothed the sharp edges of loss. 

Then there was a social media announcement, which was completely adorable (and ultrasound free, thankfully), and it included a very cute reveal that the baby has girl parts. I felt excited for her and her husband. But then the final shot was a onesie that said something along the lines of "some miracles take time" and a small twinge of sadness became a bit of a funk. I had to remind myself, it IS a miracle to them. It DID take time. And I am happy, so happy that this happened for my friend... but it did awaken that tiny, sharp-clawed voice wayyy in the back recesses of my mind that whispered "there wasn't enough time in the world to make a miracle for you..." I let myself be sad briefly, and then I hearted the post and texted her congrats on the girl parts. 

I didn't comment on the post though, because I know it will be too much to get notifications of all the other comments and have it keep popping up in my feed. I am putting my sadness here because I don't want it to seep into my hug for her tomorrow, but also, I am protecting myself. I already told her that I can't see ultrasounds, but that I do want to know how she's feeling and celebrate her luck. She totally respects that.

- Otherwise, everything is decently good. I am enjoying the beauty of October, and my kids this year really are a lot of fun. It's a good year. 

So, sorry for the disappearing act that apparently happens every start of the school year, and I promise I will be reading and commenting very very shortly! 

* When the Night Comes Knocking by Katherine Daniel, terrific scary gory fun based on an Appalachian legend

Hope for the Future

The news sucks at the moment. Everything is gloom and doom and impending apocalypse. 

So, it was a lovely surprise to discover just how many of my students this year ARE READERS! Like, borrowing books from me on the daily and returning them read the next day. Like, 8th graders reading Project Hail Mary. And my smaller class group? Not as reading averse as usual! 

I hope this is a positive sign for the future. It sure feels that way to me. 

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Also, it's officially World Childless Week! Go here and scroll down to the 2026 section to explore each day's submissions and offerings. I'm bummed I can't attend most things because the time change at school and the time zone difference are not compatible at all, but I am looking forward to reading each day. 

Happy New Year

A friend of mine said this is how we should go back to school (as teachers). Happy New Year! 

This year, I feel like the transition has been hard. Today was our first day back, and there will be students in my room on Wednesday. It's early (for NY), and not every district is going back before Labor Day. These two days without kids are supposed to be "get your room and materials ready" days, but they are almost always a marathon of meetings. My room is currently evidence of the fractured time, because there are piles on literally every desk. And there are a lot of desks -- I have relatively large special classes (self-contained) this year, so I had to collect tables because I didn't have enough. 

I don't feel ready at all. I know I will be, as ready as I'm gonna be, by the time the kids walk through my door. Or I'll be an amazing actress and pretend I've got it all together. Either option is honestly fine. 

I enjoyed that I truly did NOTHING school-related in July. It made July like every day was Saturday (a day I reserve for no school work during the year). But then, August felt like Sunday. And it went FAST. I had grand plans. I executed...some of them. I brought stuff home today, but then decided to pick up Five Guys on the way home and chill out. I have one thing I HAVE to do, but I also wanted some downtime. 

It was discouraging to see at the faculty meeting that summer slides (yep, they still do that) were very family-kid centered, and many people without kids or partners did not participate. I did, because I enjoy a ridiculous photo, a slide WITHOUT children (now the vast majority are high school and college), and some ordinary reading-at-home photos. But this year, they decided to have people explain their slides. I might have said, "Oh no no no" really loudly. I refused, because I had captions and IS THIS REALLY NECESSARY IN LIFE? but everyone else did it and it took a really long time. People who had a rough summer were MISERABLE. People who had a meh summer were MISERABLE. And, because I didn't explain my slide and said "read the captions" in the nicest possible way, they gave it about 10 seconds or less airtime. Boooo. Here it is: 

I added my reading stats because that's how I personally rate a summer. And I have to have flower pictures. And the one time we got the fire pit out. 

Maybe living in a cycle that restarts each year is great in that we get a new year every year. Maybe having that (ever shorter) summer break makes it harder to restart, though. I am looking forward to this year. I just have to pump myself up a bit for the two days with kids. I can do it for them. For a zillion meetings? Not as necessary. :) Maybe I'll feel more ready and myself next week.

Entering My Store-Bought Estrogen Phase

I did it! I have joined the ranks of women enjoying supplementary estrogen. In my case, a patch that is changed 2x/week. 

I had heard tales of happiness from women who went before me. I wasn't sure that I'd be eligible, as after ending fertility treatments no one would prescribe me estrogen-based birth control (for PCOS management, not actual birth control, since that was proven utterly unnecessary). That was because buried in my medical records was a heterozygous mutation for prothrombin, which puts me at higher risk for deep vein thrombosis (aka scary blood clots). 

Soo, I assumed HRT was not possible for me. 

EXCEPT! There were all these studies that showed significantly decreased risk for transdermal estrogen, and so I had hope again. 

After two years of questioning myself: "am I really in need of this?" "are my hot flashes 'bad enough'?" and other thoughts that weren't really productive and are a result of lifelong medical gaslighting, I asked my gynecologist about it at my last annual in July. 

I have now been on the patch for a full month, and I am so happy I did it. With the exception of 2 night sweats and 1 day of hot flashes that broke through, I have been relieved of my inner furnace! I feel less like I wake up in a state of high anxiety. It was getting real old to both wake up slicked in sweat AND feeling like I was just chased by a bear. 

It's also great to know that estrogen-only therapy can decrease risks of dementia, and HRT in general decreases risk of osteoporosis. Part of me wonders why I didn't do this sooner! 

The one downside is that I alternate placement of the patch every time I replace it, which is giving me flashbacks to the dreaded progesterone-in-oil injections of yesteryear. We would switch from "dragon side" to "non-dragon side," based on a tattoo I have on my right hip/lower back. Same thing with the patch, although it is WAY less painful to unpeel and stick a little patch on my skin than sinking an inch-and-a-half needle in my flesh. AND I'm actually getting something out of this treatment! Win. 

So, if you are questioning whether or not "it's time" to look into the patch, trust yourself. I was told if you are experiencing symptoms of perimenopause, you are IN PERIMENOPAUSE. There's really not a great metric as blood values change day to day, and if you've exorcised your uterus had a hysterectomy, there's no "red flag" so to speak for when your periods start to wane. 

Everybody has different risk factors, everybody has different needs, but it doesn't hurt to ask about it. I am so glad I did. 

This Image Is Everything

I was at a bookstore/coffee shop I've never been to before in my area, and there was a section with unframed art. I was there with a friend from school, and she saw this one, and I knew I had to have it: 

@FABFEMINISTART

Is it not PERFECT? 

It's not a unique metaphor, but I felt like this was the theme of 2017. When everything fell apart and we said goodbye to the dream of parenthood we'd been chasing for 8 years, and I just felt like utter goo. It was my chrysalis phase, trying to figure out how to reconstitute life differently. I love, love, love the butterfly metaphor for when everything goes dark and deconstructed. Eventually, you come out beautiful, but changed. 

Medical Paperwork Sucks, But My New PT Doesn't!

I saw my new PT for the first time today, to address hypermobile Ehler-Danlos Syndrome (hEDS). She mentioned how glad she was that I dropped off the paperwork yesterday, because she was able to really read and absorb it. 

I hate, hate, hate filling out medical paperwork. First, the obvious: It always has a section with "please list all surgeries with dates." I started just lumping 2010-2015 together, because of all the hysteroscopies, egg retrievals, and the pericentesis when I had OHSS. It hurts less that way. 

It is interesting to see that all my surgeries are either joints gone wrong or reproductive system gone wrong. Alllll the way back to my first year of life. Hmm. 

I also hate rating scales. When talking about the pain I experience, it seems not to fit into any of the available boxes. I end up writing psychotic notes in the white spaces that say things like "my pain doesn't prevent me from doing things about the house or walking, but it does punish me. I can do it, and then I have to lie on the floor for a while to recover." 

That! the laying on the floor -- I'm still flabbergasted that it is a perfectly reasonable way to give your body a gravity break, a way to find its place in space and feel supported, when you have hEDS. I was listening to the Bendy Bodies podcast, and the doctor with hEDS who hosts the podcast was like "I can do xxx, but then I have to lie on the floor." LIKE IT'S A NORMAL THING! It tickles me that my so-called odd behavior at the end of the day (or between class periods) where I lie on the floor, or the windowsill, or a table...is a perfectly reasonable accommodation strategy for my unmoored body! Ha. You can bet I'm going to lord that over everybody at school who has thought it's bizarre that I do that! 

Back to PT paperwork. 

I also had a hard time because I dropped the paperwork off, and then started thinking, "what if they aren't fluent in hEDS?" Which is totally bonkers because this place was recommended to me by my Pilates instructor FOR being familiar with hEDS. I did a whole bunch of research into PT and hEDS, and found a fact sheet written by a PT who explains things and what might be contraindicated. I printed it and brought it. 

Luckily, the PT was like, "is there anything you need to know about your diagnosis? It's a lot to take in, people often come in and don't really know what it is." In retrospect, I should have asked her for her spiel anyway because it would be fascinating to see how she defines it. But, no. I said "oh, I have gone down a deep rabbit hole of research" and then listed out a bunch of sources I've found particularly helpful. And then I laughed and told her I had a printout for HER just in case, guess it can continue being a bookmark! 

It was a good appointment, mostly evaluation for baseline which is boring, but I left feeling pretty good about it. AND, she never even commented on the sad story my medical history reveals... starting with the fruitless exploratory pelvic laparoscopy in 1999 and then that clump from 2010-2015, followed by the melon baller procedure and the subsequent hysterectomy. I think every time that's in there, someone has to say something, even if it's a relatively benign, "oh, I'm so sorry." It wasn't relevant to what we were doing PT for, and it didn't come up. It feels like a shift. 

I wish there was some magical thing that could hold your medical history and update it so you could just link to it or print it and be like HERE. (We're getting closer, I don't have to do it as much for providers within this one university system, because the portal holds EVERYTHING. But not everyone is included. Boo.) Medical paperwork used to send me into an absolute spiral. In a way I relived those 5 particularly difficult years with each thing I wrote down. But with the clumping and not cataloging all the fertility-related things and the passage of time... It was annoying, but didn't trigger my deep sadness. I wish I could tell my younger self that these days would come, where some of the grief bombs of yore are deactivated.

Breakfast at a Small Inn Can Be Tricky

We just got back from our summer vacation, which was 4 nights in Boothbay Harbor, Maine bookended by a night in Grafton, VT to break up the drive to and from. 

Grafton is a big inn -- there are multiple buildings, and then the Barn for eating dinner (and enjoying live music) and the breakfast dining area for the included Vermont Country Breakfast. There, you eat at your own table, as if you were in a restaurant. People kind of keep to themselves unless they've come with family or friends. We chitchat with the staff, some of whom we've seen for the 17 or so years we've been going there. It's friendly, but not an overly social breakfast experience. 

In Boothbay, we stay at an inn that is an old sea captain's house, right at the head of the harbor. There are 5 total rooms. Breakfast is also included, but it's served in a traditional house dining room. You can choose to eat on the deck or in the little sunroom, or you can sit at the table with complete strangers. 

We usually sit at the table with complete strangers. It is a crapshoot. Some years it is painfully child-focused -- often the kids aren't there, but people are talking about their kids, or grandkids, and assuming everyone is a parent. Last year was the first year nobody asked us if we had kids. It was weird, but honestly...welcome. 

You can also end up sitting with people who utterly monopolize the conversation. Last year there was a couple that talked a blue streak, loudly, and didn't let anyone else get a word in edgewise. There were other people we were interested in knowing more about, but they didn't have a chance. We tried to figure out how to eat at a different time than them, because it was not the most relaxing way to start the day. (The big fear is: are we those people??? Are we unaware and we are just as bad and that's why it's so annoying? Jeez I hope not!)

So this year, we came down the first day and there was a guy sitting by himself who was there for a wedding, and we chatted before he took off to go kayaking before leaving. We were sitting alone when a family came down with two kids, a 2-ish year old and a 5-ish year old. Honestly, my first reaction was "oh jeez, here we go." BUT. 

They were the most delightful family ever. They were traveling for the mom's 40th birthday, and they'd never been to Maine before. The kids were cute, and when they were squirrelly, they were held accountable in a way that this teacher wishes were more universal (firm but loving, clear consequences, clear boundaries). THERE WERE NO DEVICES TO BE SEEN. It is so disheartening to see how many kids are already addicted to devices well before school, and families that go out to dinner and EVERYONE is on their phone. Or the littles are watching shows on the iPad full volume, no regard for other people in the restaurant. Gosh I sound like a crochety old lady! 

And, the parents talked about all kinds of things! We had a lovely conversation, gave some recommendations of things to do, and off they went. Not once did they ask if we had kids. 

We saw them off and on throughout the day, and then we actually got to eat breakfast with them all of the 4 mornings. On the last day, they asked if we had any nieces or nephews. WHAT? What an interesting way to ask! We don't, not little ones, but it almost took us off guard. Never did they ask about kids. 

So now we wonder, do we give off "no-kids" vibes? Do we just look older and so it's not as relevant? I'm going to say that's not the case because of how rampant talk of grandchildren is. I'm so much more aware of that as I inch my way towards that demographic since I'm out of "childbearing years." My dad was actually saying that when he is talking with people, they just assume everyone is a grandparent, and that bothers him. I guess it doesn't ever let up entirely. 

We were sad when this family left (the same day that we did). They seemed genuinely sad, too -- lots of waving and goodbyes and I almost fell out of the hammock while turning to say goodbye as they got into their car to leave. 

We made sure to tell them how lovely we found them, and I actually said "You guys are incredible parents. There is hope for the future!" We meant it. 

So while breakfast is a crapshoot when staying at a small inn, this time we won all the way around. And of course, the innkeepers were amazing! Bayside Inn in Boothbay for the win.