Here We Go Again...

💔 Things you don't want to hear from your doctor:

"You know that journalist (Grant Wahl) that died suddenly at the World Cup of the aortic aneurysm ...yea, you have that." 💔

 

Yes. Those were the words the cardiologist said to me this afternoon. As an avid soccer fan, I knew exactly who Grant Wahl was and what happened, but the doc couldn't have known that. If you read the article linked above, you will learn a few facts about aortic aneurysms and apparently, the ticking time bomb that has likely been growing in my body for several years. Scary thought.

For those who are unaware, of recent health happenings in my world, let me summarize:

1. My numbers related to colon cancer are still good. My oncologist is confident I am cancer free although I have some lung issues we continue to monitor. 

2. When I had my original post-chemo scans in May, they revealed lung scar tissue from Covid I'd had in January 2022.

3. In August, to check on my Covid lungs and because I was still short of breath at times, I had some further testing done.

4. My lungs are recovering; however, by accident, a heart abnormality was found by the tech - unrelated to my cancer.

5. In November, I had some more detailed imaging done on my heart and valves which confirmed an aortic aneurysm.

6. Today, I consulted with my cardiologist and cardiac surgeon who deemed me eligible for open heart surgery to repair the issue.

Long story short, the surgery has a very low risk and is quite common. My heart, otherwise, is in very good shape which helps the success rate. I could opt out of the surgery and monitor the issue every 6 months since I have just barely crossed the size threshold for recommending surgery. However, my risk factors would increase exponentially every year and within 5 years the doctor said there would be a 50/50 chance of having a catastrophic event - like Grant Wahl.

Most of the time we say FUCK CANCER; however, in this case by lucky accident, it may have saved my life or at least extended my chances.

BUT this puts me in another uncomfortable situation, to be honest. My whole life, I have tried to take care of others. I try to be the problem-solver, the protector, the person who would sacrifice for others because seeing others happy made me happy. As many of you know, on the other hand, I am not comfortable being on the other end of that equation - I struggle to accept help because I see myself as the helper.
 

It was a given that I was going to have to lean on Brandi and the boys last fall, but as most of you know, I also made the conscious choice to battle publicly and as part of that, I knew I was going to have to step out of my comfort zone and accept all of the love, prayers, meals, help, and strength from family and friends. It was not easy at times. That being said, I am so grateful to this day for all that people gave to me - and to my family. Because of those prayers and strength and love, I am here today...you cannot convince me otherwise.

I do not like to be a burden. (I know, I should not see it that way). And one of my first thoughts was the guilt, once again, of being a burden to Brandi and the boys. They deserve so much more than having to worry and take care of me. And I do not want to be a burden to family and friends. Nothing anyone is doing is making me feel that way. It's just how I'm wired. My guess is that a lot of folks in my shoes feel the same way - when we are sick, it is such a crappy feeling to even think we are a burden to those we love.

Thankfully, it seems that this surgery is not terrible (as far as open heart surgery goes). There's about a 4-day hospital stay and then I am up and walking and rebuilding strength with a much healthier heart. Unlike cancer, which is a long-term slog, this one seems like a sprint and the plan is to be up and 'running' again in time to catch some of the last Dead and Company tour this summer.

I just want you all to know, my dear reading friends and family, that I love you. I love your energy. I love how you've colored my life so brightly. I love the amazing times we have shared and I cherish the tough times we have been through. I am so lucky to have such incredible people standing by my side in this life - those I have only known a short time and those who I have known my whole life. My music family, my OSRUI and Ramah families, my Shorashim family, my Illini family, my work family, my CBS Rabbi and friends, my neighborhood friends...I love and appreciate you all immensely. 

 

And I am so blessed to have wonderful parents, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews - blood related and related by choice. Most importantly, my wife and 3 sons make me the luckiest man on Earth. Period.

For them and for the all of you, I fight on.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanza...and Happy 2023 to you all!

Canciversary

I should be grading, but I have found that hard to do lately. At the tail end of what has been a really long year, this past month has been pretty brutal. As if my "Canciversary" hasn't been enough, the month has also included:

1. Brandi's continuing recovery from foot surgery.

2. My father's fall, broken bones, and continuing rehab (including COVID).
3. Me taking on a new class to help out a colleague who is sick - new books, new curriculum, etc.

4. Frustrations at work both personally and with the pedagogical direction of SHS.

But that is just the context to the past month, which for me, has really focused on my Canciversary. Most people may not realize that when you get cancer, or I suppose any other serious illness, it stays with you. Every. Day. Even if it's not in the forefront of the mind, it's lurking, and it likes to come out once in awhile for a visit. For me, that visit has been like a guest who over-stays their welcome, and it's going on month #2.

My Canciversary is actually September 27th. Since that day, over a month ago, I have daily battles to keep the "What ifs" at bay. The "What ifs" began with thinking about: What happens if my 1-year colonoscopy follow up finds more cancer? Those "What ifs" morph into sub-questions regarding potential treatment - What if I have to do more chemo? What if I have to do radiation? What if I have to do Car-T immunotherapy like my father did? What if I have to tell the kids, again? What if, what if, what if... It's nightmare and depression inducing, and pretty illogical given how low my CEA (cancer indicator in blood test) has been post-chemo and at the 3 month point...which makes it even more depressing to be unable to rely on logic. And all the while, I have tried to smile - for the kids and for everyone else because why should anyone else have to worry...illogically?

As most of you know, thankfully, my colonoscopy results from yesterday were as good as we could hope. I did get a bit nervous when undressing for the procedure, my #GratefulFighters bracelet snapped. For those that may not know, I have worn that bracelet since Nadav started fundraising with them for his Bar Mitzvah early this Spring - easily 6+ months. I worried it was a bad omen, but Brandi stepped in to say that it was a positive sign instead - a sign that I had won my fight. And so, because my wife said, I changed my negative thoughts to positive ones; however, I do not consider my fight over. While I may be in remission (pending CT results), I am still a Fighter - for myself and for others. Remember - If you're reading this and you have not gotten your yearly check up and you have not had your required screenings, please do it now. That is a battle I will fight for the rest of my life!
 

Anyhow, while there were 4 polyps to remove during my colonoscopy, the doctor said that he was not worried. If he didn't know my history, he wouldn't think twice. Additionally, he posits that those polyps were from before and that my surgeon simply ignored the tiny polyps to make sure they removed all of the cancer. But now those polyps are gone, off to the lab just to double-check the pathology, and I do not need another colonoscopy for a year. Phew. It was definitely a relief.

But that was only 1 test of 4 that have induced the anxiety over the past month plus. Next up was my 6 month consult with my oncologist. Every 3 months, we meet and he does blood work - mostly to keep an eye on my CEA. Some of you may recall that the normal range for CEA is 0-2.5 and a year ago, mine was 12.4. Post-chemo, that number had dropped to 1.4. 3-months ago, that number was 0.9, and yesterday, despite my feeling that it would go up given that I haven't been able to exercise (more on that later), it dropped even lower to 0.7! And so, I woke up this morning feeling pretty positive!

But I still have 2 more hurdles to jump in the next couple of weeks. At 6 months, my oncologist also orders a chest CT to make sure there is no visual evidence of cancer. Again, even though logic says that the results will be positive, the anxiety is still lurking below the surface. And finally, in mid-November, I will be having a CAT scan on my heart. I haven't spoken much about this publicly, but due to my post-Covid breathing issues, I had some heart testing done. Thankfully, my heart is functioning well; however, by accident, they spotted something that they want to look at further. I won't speculate and my oncologist reassures me that there's not much to worry about...but still, given my father's heart problems post-chemo and this finding, I'm still uneasy. My hope is that by Thanksgiving, the remaining 2 tests will come through with positive news and we can truly put to rest this anxiety inducing month + !!

(If only it was as easy to make work issues go away!!)

If you have made it this far, I guess that aside from wanting to fill everyone in and aside from me wanting to document this for my own reflection, I wanted to just share a bit of what many cancer survivors (and other long-term illness sufferers) go through in the days, months, and years past being "cleared" (and what others may or may not wish to share publicly for various reasons). While we want to celebrate life - and I'm doing my best to do just that, there is always the "What ifs" monster lurking below the surface.

With a 4/4 November, hopefully, I'll be able to fend off the monster for at least another year until my next Canciversary.

Until next time,

#GetScreened
#GratefulFighters

America - We Have a Problem

 5.24.22

I'm sick to my stomach.

I'm sick to my stomach because as of this moment, we are mourning another school shooting. At least 18 kids and 1 teacher are dead. 23 years after Columbine, 15 years after Va Tech, almost 10 years after Sandy Hook, 4+ years after Parkland, and several other school shootings, we now have the 4th deadliest school shooting in American history at Robb Elementary School. 

I am sick to my stomach because as a teacher, for 23 years I am constantly looking at exits and places to duck for cover when I walk through the halls; and I know in my heart that with a gunman at the door of my classroom, I'd take a bullet for my students - it's in my DNA.

I'm sick to my stomach because we seem unable to solve this horrid problem.

I'm sick to my stomach because instead of engaging in dialogue, this issue has turned into political football with two sides - the GOP and Dems - lobbing accusations at each other. Heels dug in, unable and unwilling to find potential solutions to the gun problem in America.

I am sick to my stomach because in a few days, this tragedy will be swept under the rug and forgotten.  The media fanfare will subside. Meanwhile, kids will continue dying in the streets of America's cities every day without much publicity because we have a gun problem in this country - and it isn't just school shootings.

I am sick to my stomach because blacks are killing blacks in the streets of America and racists are killing blacks and brown people in super markets and churches.

I am sick to my stomach because this is not only a gun problem. This is a mental health problem. This is an economic problem. This is a nuclear family problem. And this will require action on several fronts by people with the courage to make changes in policy and in our communities.

I am sick to my stomach because we have a problem and instead of working together to solve it - we are more divided than ever, and as long as we remain polarized, we will be paralyzed to stop the next shooting and the next and the next.

I am sick to my stomach because our inaction is a sin and it is on our shoulders. History will judge us harshly.

I pray for the day when we can find a way to work together to end this violence in our schools, on our streets, in our places of worship, in our work spaces, and in other public venues.

And of course, tonight I pray for the parents and families of the Robb Elementary School community. I cannot imagine their pain tonight. My heart breaks for them all.

I am sick to my stomach.  G-d help us.

The Yin and Yang of it

5.4.22

 

The Yin and Yang of It 

 

Part 1: The Yang (this is long - consider yourself warned)

I am entering today with mixed emotions. The Yang of it is that today is my 12th and (hopefully) final chemotherapy treatment. The Yin of it is that it is Yom HaZikaron - Israel's Memorial Day for Soldiers and Terror Victims. So I suppose I will save my fist pumping celebration until later tonight when Yom HaZikaron turns to Yom Ha'Atzmaut - Israel's Independence Day.

In a way, the symbolism of treatment 12 falling at this time is not lost on me. In Israel, there is deep mourning for 24 hours to remember those that sacrificed so Jews could be a free people in our ancestral homeland - and then boom, just like that, we compartmentalize and celebrate the realization of what those who lost their lives fought for - our beautiful state, the realization of thousands of years of exile.

I, too, am transitioning today. While I'm thinking and remembering those who have fallen (more on that in the Yin post as you might have guessed), I am poisoning my body with chemicals for the last (hopefully) time. After this, I hit the road to recovery - celebrating hope and optimism - and I'm determined to be healthier and firmly defeat this damned beast. So far, my CEA numbers are a positive indicator that I am unofficially in remission. My doctor, this morning, was really pleased with my normal CEA number and anticipates that my CT scan Monday morning will verify that I am cancer free. Cautious Optimism is the rule here.

And I am only here because of you all. Seriously. The love and support and prayers and gifts and meals - all of it, has made the last 8 months fly by. When I was down, you lifted me up. When I needed energy, you were there. So this is my thank you post. Yes, during my last chemo, I am thinking of all of you and all you have done - and I"m so grateful. And I'm going to do something unwise here - I'm going to try to list thank yous and thank some people specifically for some of the help along the way...and I will likely miss people, which I hate (and I'll deserve your ridicule if I miss you). So just know that even if you're not mentioned here, I'm grateful to you as well. I realize this will be long and some of you may not want to read through it all (I won't be offended) - but I need, NEED, you all to know how unbelievably thankful I am for your generosity.

• Thank you for all of the notes, prayers, texts, DMs, check-ins, and more. It has been humbling to know that so many of you are thinking of me when things are so tough for all of us in this world today. That you dedicated time in your busy lives to think of me meant so much and helped immensely.
• Thank you to everyone that has scheduled screenings, had their colonoscopies, and spread the word to others. Knowing that our #GetScreened message was out there and making a difference helped give me strength to continue my own battle. Because if people were out there making an effort to drink that stuff (or take the pills) and go through that 'cleansing', I could also fight my battle with strength and determination.
• Thank you to my colleagues - particularly Nicole L, Anastasiya, Maureen, Nicole D. My friends know how important my work and students are to me. My friends who are teachers know that making sub plans is a chore. These amazing ladies made sure I never had to think twice about missing work in order to take care of myself. 'Such a gift.
• Thank you to Palfy and Jeff for covering Brandi's classes when needed so she could focus on taking care of me.
  
• Thank you to Laurie P and Carrie F for organizing the meal trains and to everyone who so generously made sure that Brandi and the boys were well fed. It was an incredible load off our minds to be so well taken care of over the last few months. I want to name you all, but there are too many!
• Thank you to all of my colleagues who provided gift cards and gifts - especially my colleagues and friends in the SS (Sarah G, Naomi, Lindsay DePaul, Jenna Breur, Janessa, Lizzie, Melissa Fainman, Chris Mural) and Science/Math departments (Amy, Paige, Amerigo, Stanny, Abbie, Jeff, Kellie, Deanna, Jin, Cahill, Molly G, Molly S) at work. Add in the Pintas, Johnstons, Rubensteins, and Zara D as well. You are all incredibly generous.
• Thank you to Christina and Jason Wood for regularly delivering cookies and homemade soups - best Minestrone I have ever had.
  
• Thank you for the books (Robert, Jules, Sprout), book marks (Cris H), Comfy Blankets (Maureen, Brian, Nicole D, Gluskins), Cookies (Christy K), sweet treats (Anna G), Grateful Dead Coloring Book (Rach & Albie), and tools to battle chemo (Leora K) that popped up regularly. 
• I need to thank friends from around the country and world that have been so generous with gift cards and constant check-ins: friends like Denise D who not only sent food but also regularly checked in on me to cheer me up.  Alon and Rikki from OSRUI, who sent gifts but also sent specific spa support for Brandi.
  
• Thank you to our amazing neighbors. The Dobkins who brought chicken wings & cookies, The Greenbergs who regularly left gifts and messages for me - including my cancer warrior socks, books, and ginger to fight the nausea. The Sorianos for regularly driving the boys to school and/or morning practice. All of it so very helpful!
• Thank you to Team Ramah for the swag, and thank you to Rabbi Melman for regularly texting and calling and supporting us throughout the past 8 months - even while on sabbatical. 
• I have to thank Schloop who has been one of my biggest cheerleaders throughout this ordeal. I wrote about him in the "One Day at a Time" post. That mantra, repeatedly given to me in support from Jeff,  has been a constant in my mindset and has given me strength to meet each day head on.
  
• Thank you to my boys - Aaron, Seth, Bret, Rich (Dave and Kai too) and Flagg/Shaggy- for getting me out of the house once in awhile, for the meals, cards, and for all the love.
• A brief thank you to all who generously donated to Nadav's Grateful Fighters bracelet project and raised more money than I would have ever imagined. Particularly Kurtz, the Malinas, Dubes, and Rabbi Melman who blew me away and were beyond generous. I also have to thank Mark Green here who I saw, via livestream, soliciting bracelet donations at Laina's bday bash. I've been incredibly touched by all of you.
• Thank you to Matt at Rock Free Love who has been instrumental in designing the Grateful Fighters logo and merch. Matt has spent a lot of his own time on this endeavor and the distraction and mission have been a big help with my mindset. We are still determined to get final licensing issues out of the way so people that want can purchase hoodies, Tshirts, hats and more to support our cancer charity work and outreach.
  
• Thank you to my friend Patrick, who I only met last September. In talking about our early deadhead days, I mentioned how I love Tiger's Eye stones and how I used to always wear one in the late 80s/early 90s. I did not remember this conversation until 2 weeks ago a beautiful Tiger's Eye necklace showed up at my house. I was blown away and I've worn it for strength and good vibes every day since.
• Thank you to my brother, sister, and brothers in law (and families) for the love and support. Knowing you're in my corner and that you are there for us in a moment's notice is huge!
  
• Thank you to my parents, Shari, and Bob. Your support has always been essential to our lives - but it has been even more so over the past 8 months. I could never list all you do for us, but suffice to say that we'd be lost without you!
• Thank you to my friend, Laina. You have walked every step on this journey with me and Brandi. Not only have you provided us with support and love, but you have been instrumental in making Grateful Fighters, just a dream we dreamed one afternoon long ago, to become a reality. You have helped us make a difference with outreach about getting screened and with fundraising. You have constantly called, texted, researched, cheered me on, cheered me up, given love to Brandi and the boys, and so much more. Love you so much.
• And finally, I have to thank Brandi. I will not and cannot express everything Brandi has done for me and the boys over the last 8 months. From the moment the docs gave us the bad news, Brandi has been in warrior mode - regardless of her own needs, she has kept our family together, kept up with work, provided everything for the boys, planned an unexpected bar mitzvah party, planned a family Israel trip, and more. There simply are not enough words to describe how much I'm in awe of everything you've had to do to help us beat this thing. I'll probably spend the rest of my life trying to re-pay you and definitely spend the rest of my life continuing to love you to the moon and back. We are here because of you and my landscape would be empty if you were gone.
  

If you have made it this far, I'm impressed.  If I missed anyone in particular or didn't mention you by name - definitely throw me under the bus because I'm a forgetful jerk...BUT, please know that even the shortest messages, the gifts, the silent prayers and all of the love have enabled us to get to this day.

Today, I reflect on the Yin - the battle, the fight, the struggle, and I am also thinking of Israel and those that sacrificed. Tonight and beyond, we focus on the Yang and we celebrate the journey back to full health.

#GetScreened
#GratefulFighters

 

 

11:11

 

4.20.22

 

11:11. For as long as I can remember, this time of day is ingrained in my mind as "Make a Wish" time - "It's 11:11, make a wish!!"

And here we are, treatment 11. I haven't blogged in 2 months. Not going to lie - the last 2 months have been a lot harder than the first 3 months. Since I had my allergic reaction to treatment 7, my treatment days have been longer (used to be 4 hours, now it's an all day affair) and the post-treatment symptoms have been worse and have been lasting longer. To be honest, yesterday was the first time through this whole ordeal where I actually felt as if I couldn't do this anymore. I'm worn down and the anticipation of the next week of feeling awful had me down.

That's where you guys come in. Unsolicited, this week I heard from 2 friends thanking #GratefulFighters for inspiring them to get their colonoscopies - and yesterday we found out that their results were good. While not totally clean, doctors were able to remove a precancerous polyp, meaning they caught the bad stuff early and there is no need for them to return for another colonoscopy for 7 years. Such a blessing! And like so many of you before that have reached out to let us know that you've scheduled your colonoscopies and let us know the good results, your actions and messages give me strength. So...the fight goes on today!

In other good news, Grateful Fighters is nearing $10,000 raised for cancer research at CDHS. While we still have not been approved to raise money through selling hats, sweatshirts, t-shirts yet, through Nadav's bar mitzvah project, Grateful Fighters rubber bracelets, and through Laina's birthday bash fundraising and Mark's selling bracelets at the bash, we are making a difference. We are so grateful to all of our friends, near and far, that have contributed to our efforts to raise money for research and to raise awareness for screenings. Your support is so meaningful to our family.

11. Eleven. We all have wishes, and today I am thinking about mine. If you had a genie and 1 wish to make, how would you use it? (No, I'm not soliciting wishes for my well-being - I know you all already pray for that regularly. These are non-Dan related wishes). So, what would you wish for? If you've read this far and you are willing...entertain me on my FB post with this blog or in the comments below with your wishes. It's going to be a long day, so share a wish, a hope, a dream - fill my post with optimism. The wishes can be fun or serious - but you only have one to use, so use it well!

11. Eleven. After today, only 1 treatment left which means just about 3 weeks of feeling meh until I can start the climb back to full health - working out, setting goals like getting back to a sub 30-minute 5K run, losing weight and more. But first, the fight continues today.

Please, #getscreened.  Early detection saves lives!
#GratefulFighters

Rocky Road...

 2.23.22

Well, today was treatment #7. Bright and early, I was feeling great and ready to roll. Met with my doc and he is really happy with progress so far...and so I began my 'pre' meds (anti nausea and steroids).

...and then about 45 minutes into my main meds, shit hit the fan. Hives, extreme nausea, stomach ache, sweats, asthmatic cough, and trouble breathing. Apparently, it is not rare at this point for the body to reject one of the 3 med chemo cocktail I receive. In this case, the drug that causes most of the issues is called: Oxaliplatin.

My nurse came in, stopped the drip and called for back up. What happened after that felt like a scene out of Pulp Fiction. Ok, that's a bit dramatic, but I had 4 or so people jump into action. I quickly received a benadryl shot and an Epi-pen jab into my thigh (thankfully it wasn't my chest like in Pulp Fiction).

Pulp Fiction Visual

Eventually, I was able to breathe, the rashes/hives went away, and they were able to finish the cocktail of the other 2 chemo drugs. I was too worn out to go to teach my afternoon classes, so I went straight home to nap. 

What does this mean? Well, Oxaliplatin is a key drug in my fight so the doctor wants me to get as much as possible. That means that Round 8 will essentially be a full day at the hospital where they gradually give me the Oxaliplatin in small doses over several hours - basically a tolerance trial. Hopefully, that will work and I'll still get all of the drugs to fight the battle. My chemo days will be longer, but I want all of the weapons! Not sure what happens if I do not tolerate it and I'm not going to think that way.

To be honest, I am somewhat depressed that I was unable to complete the full treatment. I did everything but only got 1/3 of the Oxaliplatin. As you know, I am determined to win and it is upsetting that the drugs got the better of me today...I'll get over it, but just putting my emotions out there.

Not sure how this will affect the next few days. Oxali is the drug that causes the first bite syndrome pain, so maybe that won't be as bad...and the gradual tolerance trial should minimize the side effects in the future. So that's good. But I still have my pal, the pump and so it's likely I'll still be exhausted and nauseous. But we'll see...

On a positive note, it seems we are 1 "okay" away from launching Grateful Fighters. Today, I saw the embroidered baseball hats prototype and it is freakin' fantastic. Thanks to the folks at Rock Free Love for all of their hard work on this project. I can't wait for you all to see it...hopefully, that will be the next blog post!

In the meantime, make sure you are getting your screenings, make sure you are seeing your primary doc once a year, and make sure you are vaxxed/boosted, etc. I know the colonoscopy prep or the boob smushing isn't fun, but your stories of positive screenings completed still brightens my spirits daily!!

#getscreened
#gratefulfighters

On Cancer and Teaching, Part II

 2.18.22

 

Today, the shit hit the proverbial fan. In Illinois, the governor's executive order mandating masking in schools was overturned. This has led to myriad responses across the state.

In the district where I live, there are reports of anti-mask staff and students bullying and harassing students who choose to remain masked. Whether you support masks or not, this is totally unacceptable. It is a school admin and staff responsibility to keep kids safe - and this responsibility was totally abused today in district 225.

In my own school of employment, we have a 4-day weekend, so preparations for the unmasking next Tuesday are a bit easier. Today, we received a lengthy communication for our administration in advance of informing the community that we will be mask optional starting Tuesday. The email detailed how staff should be respectful in creating a safe environment for all students regardless of their mask choices. I am sure that my colleagues and I will do just that for our students.

But this all means something different for me and my family on a personal level. Though I'm not really afraid of Covid, I am going through chemotherapy. I am immunocompromised. There is a much greater risk to my health. And frankly, I am hurt and offended by my school community's response regarding my personal safety.

Quite simply, in light of my situation and legitimate health concerns, if I could request students mask in my classroom. To be honest, I'm not sure my students would argue given that we have a relationship and they know my situation. However, I was told that at this time, we cannot put pressure to mask or unmask on students. In general, I get it. In my case, I feel like I've just been given a giant middle finger.

For 25 years, I have worked in my school community. Over those years, I have given 100% plus to my students and community. I have sacrificed my own mental and personal health at time in servicing my students. I have sacrificed my family and friends at other time, in light of giving my all to serve my students. And now that my personal health is at risk, I have been given the middle finger. I am hurt and I am offended.

Apparently for 25 years, I've been doing it wrong. I'm not sure it's in my DNA, but this very morning has greatly changed my perspective and priorities as an educator.

Today vs. Yesterday - On Cancer and Teaching

 2.1.22

I noticed a serious difference in myself between Yesterday (Monday) and Today (Tuesday). For the most part, that's no big deal - but for me, it was huge, and I think a lot of that has to do with the fact that I'm a teacher.

This is not a jab at all other professions. It's about being a teacher, and what most non-teachers do not understand about us. We are perfectionists. We feel the weight, every day, of inspiring countless kids - engaging them, entertaining them, helping them grow. When we are not our best or when a lesson doesn't go as planned - we beat ourselves up.

Cancer aside, I think that is what makes the past few years of Covid, so difficult for teachers. Whether what we are doing works or not - eschool, pod learning, or whatever - we feel the burden of success and failure. And when the public piles on, calling teachers greedy or lazy or bad at our jobs, it is soul crushing. Yet, much of the general public seems to be an expert on education and pedagogy and is willing to bash teachers at every turn. It's no wonder that our profession is bleeding teachers at an alarming rate, and that lower numbers are entering the profession these days.

I'd be lying if I said that I never thought about leaving the profession. Over my 25 year career, I have polished up my resume a few times. Ultimately, I've stuck it out because I love what I do. But yesterday was tough. I was still nauseous from Round 5, and I knew I was not at my best. And like I said, when I'm not at my best - I feel bad and depressed. It comes home with me. It keeps me up at night wondering what I could have done to make it better.

I feel like teaching is one of a few professions where you cannot hide a bad day. I have worked in other places at times in my life - in offices, you can 'hide' for awhile and catch up on work. When I was younger, I was able to 'ride out' a hangover at my desk until I was better functioning. My guess is that is possible in a lot of places. But it is not possible in teaching. I cannot tell my 2nd hour to hold tight for a while until my head clears. I have to teach because I have no other options. And I realized yesterday, that in an ideal world, I would have been able to take sick time while one of my awesome colleagues covered my class, so the students wouldn't be cheated. But I don't have unlimited sick time...even during a long-term illness. Truthfully, I should be taking 3-4 days off every chemo cycle [and many people have expressed surprise that I try not to miss any teaching through this chemotherapy], but that's not the way our world works. I can't think of any profession that gets that much sick time, but I know that 3-4 days every cycle, I'm pushing myself to teach my students - and beating myself up when I'm not at my best.

So, yesterday was tough because I really noticed that I was not at my best. Amazingly though, yesterday turned into Today - and there was no nausea, my enthusiasm/energy were back, and I felt more capable to engage and inspire my students. Thankfully, there are more Todays than Yesterdays in my life. And thankfully, I think my students are with me and they are learning to ebb and flow with me so that we can maximize our work together.

So if teaching is so tough, why not switch careers for another 6 figure profession as it seems people are doing based on the article linked above? Apparently teachers are in demand (belying the trite - those who can't teach crap), so why not flee for another career where I might make more and have less stress?

I guess the answer can be summed up within the controversy over the graphic novel MAUS being removed from the 8th grade curriculum in a small county in Tennessee. Many of you know that I taught MAUS for nearly a decade and I was privileged to present about it at an Illinois Assoc of Teachers of English conference years ago, and I was written up in the Chicago Tribune for being on the cutting edge of teaching graphic novels. For years, a colleague and I were contacted multiple times a year by educators from around the country and Canada to share resources on teaching MAUS due to materials we had put online.

And that stuff is cool and great...but it doesn't define why I teach. Over the past few days, I have been contacted by former students who are aghast and upset at the news out of Tennessee. One former student wrote:
"look what TN did....a tragedy! Most memorable class and an important book. What a shame. If we don't remember history we are bound to repeat it ... I still have my book with notes 19 years later."

In a nutshell, that's why I teach. And I want to thank the students who reached out to me this past week to remind me. Sure, the yesterdays are tough...but the impact we can make when the Todays are awesome, is immeasurable. So I will continue to fight through the Yesterdays this spring, while I fight this beast, and I will strive for the Todays that make a difference.

While other teachers may not have an illness like me, please know that they are battling their own Yesterdays and striving for the precious moments. Please support them, love them, send them notes of thanks. Not one teacher is out there trying to ruin kids - whether they are a great teacher or a good teacher. Do not listen to those afraid of teaching real history. Do not fret about those trying to foment panic about some mythical CRT being taught. The fact is that teachers are all out there, pouring their souls into our future. Help us all seek better Todays!

#GetScreened
#GratefulFighters

Writer's Block

1.21.22

It's been a month since I last blogged...for a bunch of reasons, but it's hard to believe that a month has passed. In truth, I have written, rewritten, and decided not to post about being an introvert. I guess part of being a writer is deciding what to share and what not to share, but other than the aforementioned thoughts about struggling with being an introvert in an extroverted world, I have purposely avoided publishing anything monotonous and/or negative.

And there has been a lot of 'negative' in the past month between Chemo and Covid. 2022 has so far been a real bitch. Most of you know this from reading Brandi's last CaringBridge post from 1.12.22 about my ability to go through the 4th round of Chemo as being the highlight of 2022 so far. Since then, I feel like we have continued to struggle with a 'plague on our house'. 2 of the boys tested positive last Tuesday and have been quarantined this week, in addition to Brandi being 'regular' sick and Lucy's ear infections. I long for a healthy household.

Maybe I have had writers' block because I was trying to avoid sharing that it seems like with each subsequent round of Chemo, the side effects are becoming more severe. I knew that this was a possibility, but I was hoping that my body would resist better. Unfortunately, this puts even more pressure on poor Brandi and the boys...as my neuropathy and cold sensitivities last longer into the 2-week cycle. Initially, my main symptoms subsided by the end of the weekend following Chemo - so Wednesday through Sunday were rough, but then I had 9 somewhat normal days. But now, I'm still having neuropathy/cold issues 9 days after Chemo. (Thankfully, first bite syndrome has subsided but that also lasted longer). What does this mean? It means that I cannot help walk Lucy. It means that when I get into work, I have to wait for my fingers to stop hurting so I can do work which is mostly on computer. It means that it is painful to pump gas. It means that if it snows, I can't help clear the driveway. There's more...but I think you get the idea. Not ideal.

More importantly, if the neuropathy continues, I worry that the doctor will have to adjust (meaning reduce) some of the Chemo meds. I do not want that to happen because I want to beat this beast with the strongest weapons we have at our disposal. Brandi's burden and the medication issue are my primary concerns...and I guess my writer's block, inability to sleep well, and somewhat increased 'depression' lately are a result.

Ugh, this post turned into more of a bummer than I intended. I am sorry, that was not my intention. But now, I guess, you know how I have been feeling lately. And I suppose I promised from the get go to 'keep it real.'

But let me try and end on a more positive note. Despite the tough times, I am still buoyed by you all. Not a day goes by without a text or a message or some other sort of inspiration from many of you, and I wanted to share 2 recent things that have lifted me up.

First, I received a note in the mail from a friend from high school. While we have been Facebook

friends for a long time, I am not sure we have seen each other in over 30 years. My friend is not Jewish, but she went out of her way to 'research' and send a hand drawn note written in Hebrew. And she was worried she didn't do it 'right.' Let me assure you - it was perfect, and it was even more poetic that it arrived from Texas the same week that 4 Jews were taken hostage in a Texas synagogue. It is a reminder that even in the toughest times, we stand together as humans in pursuit of peace.

The other thing that lifted me up today was a note I received from another friend - one of the many of you who have heeded our #gratefulfighters call to get screened. Here is the note I received after checking in on my friend after his colonoscopy yesterday:

"Good morning brother! All went well and I am in the clear. Here is my big take away though. Every one of my children and my wife have thanked me for going and getting checked out. They were all convinced that I would never go see any Dr.

My father passed from cancer of the pancreas when he was 59. I grew up with him in the hospital. Kidney stones, operation after operation and pain killer addiction. I have avoided going to the Dr as much as a person can. All until you have shared your experience. Something inside me said to take responsibility and be proactive.

I'm not sure if you want the credit for helping me make a decision for health, but truthfully it belongs to you fighting and sharing! Having my children express how much it meant to them was moving in a way I hadn't expected. I am grateful today for things I was unaware of yesterday! What a powerful connection. I hope you know that you are changing lives brother! I pray that it means everything and more that you need it to. I'm certainly more aware of what it means to me!"

No, I do not want credit. I am so happy for every person we inspire to take control of their health. And yes, each note of this sort means everything to me and to Brandi. It's a big reason why, even as an introvert, I continue to put myself 'out there' during this battle.  As I read this note this morning, Alon turned to me and asked me what was wrong. I had tears in my eyes. Yes, this note and the support of ALL of you means that much to me.

Shabbat Shalom
Have a peaceful weekend!
#GratefulFighters
#GetScreened