Someone defined poetry as “life condensed”. Sometimes I think that disability is life magnified. Today’s lens is Irony:
- I dropped my reaching tool behind the bed where I … struggled to reach it.
- Forgot to take my ADHD meds.
- Was too stiff to pull on my elastics: the wrap for my elbow, the two pads for my knees, and the fingertip-less gloves.
- Nearly in too much pain to remove the child-safe cap from the arthritis medicine.
- Couldn’t see to find the wee screw that holds in the lens to my eyeglasses.
- (Similarly, when my ex-husband couldn’t hear his hearing aid squealing.)
- Couldn’t understand the voice-mail reminding me of a follow-up visit with the audiologist.
- Being unsure if that noise I heard in the audiologist’s testing booth was one of the test tones, or my tinnitus.
- Asked a random store clerk to open the box and unpeel a bandage wrapper so I could stop the bleeding of yet another torn cuticle and pay for said bandages.
- Sat on the grocery floor because I’d forgotten to wear my knee pads that day, and had to stock boxes of aspirin and arthritis meds.
- When discussing my difficulties with social interactions with a counselor and mentioned that I thought I was missing things, I was unable to tell just what it was that I was not catching!
And so on, and so on. Feel free to add some of your own!
( A follow-up on my shaky employment status, as described in a previous post, The Catch.)
So now I’ve twice seen the ENT (Ear, Nose & Throat doc, not tree-folk), to figure out if the vertigo, worsening tinnitus and hearing difficulties are related to Ménière’s, or “just” migraines. At those visits I also spent time in the audiologist’s booth: “Huh? Sorry, I can’t see what you’re saying.” “Oh,” he replied jovially, “this isn’t a vision test, it’s a hearing test.” Ha, ha. Very funny.
(Have I mentioned that lately one of the cable channels is messed up, and maddenly, we’ve not had any closed-captions on episodes of CSI ? Listening to TV is hard enough with fussy babies who want bouncing, much less auditory processing glitches and tinnitus.)
And then something wonderful happened:
The day after my first ENT visit, it occurred to me that it might be useful to ge an official letter from the doc to give to my various bosses. So I called in my request to the office nurse and picked it up from the receptionist and passed out copies to my supervisors and those got fowarded to Human Resources people and —
I was saved by bureaucracy.
(I mean hey, it’s gotta happen sometime, right?)
Because apparently being treated for Ménière’s disease (note the careful legal waffling on diagnostics) falls under the umbrella of an American labor law known as the The Family and Medical Leave Act of 1993 (FMLA). Basically, taking care of sick family members, birth, adoption, or one’s own illness (covered by the Act) is protected so the worker can get unpaid sick leave without worrying about job security.
I cannot be dunned for absences related to bouts of vertigo.
My principal was of course very polite and helpful in the process of explanating this unexpected coverage. I was asked about accommodations that might be helpful. Alas, none of the things suggested by the Job Accommodation Network are applicable to my job (but that’s a great site if you need ideas for accommodations for most any sort of affliction or difference).
However, I was giving some 60 days of sick leave for absences related to — and only to — Ménière’s. Despite my initial relief, my job status still feels as wobbly as my gait some days. Stay tuned for further developments.
I’ve been having intermittent bouts of vertigo (some severe), along with worsening tinnitus and resulting difficulty understanding what people are saying. My GP said I got poor results on the tympanogram, and is sending me to an ENT, whom I see next week. I’m no longer driving on the highway, and take extra care if I’m carrying my grandson.
Meanwhile, someone at school told the principal that I was “doing the wall thing”, meaning touching the wall to steady myself as I passed down a hallway. This resulted in being called up for a Official Meeting. By the time I left, I was feeling queasy and light-headed for entirely different reasons:
- Being a couple hours late to phone in my absences due to migraine and due to a Emergency Room visit for vertigo, had previously earned me a stern warning for procedural lapses.
- Going to or staying at work if feeling dizzy is prohibited because an educator with vertigo is a liability.
- Leaving work 30 minutes early for a doctor’s appointment must be taken as sick time.
- No “flex time” is allowed for appointments (i.e. leaving a bit early and making up that time by staying later another day).
- Thirty minutes, half a day or a whole day all count equally as an incident of using a sick day.
- Taking 19 sick-day events by October due to viruses, migraines, vertigo or doctor appointments is excessive, and any further such absences can result in termination of employment.
- Which specific number is unmentioned, but up to the Powers That Be in the Human Resources department.
- Any employee who is feverish with a virus must stay home.
Alas, this is all legal, and there seems to be a large limbo of being disabled by irregularly re-occuring conditions without actually being Disabled enough for some kind of accommodation.
Even if I somehow negotiated with H.R., the interpersonal climate with the school admin is too prickly to stay. This is a shame, because I have a great relationship with my classroom staff/faculty.
I’m looking for a different job, hopefully something full-time that also pays well enough so I can have just ONE job in my life. But everything I’ve seen pays fast-food wages, or else is so technically specific that my skills profile is a mis-match.
The free-floating anxiety is just HELL.
It’s going to be a long day; I can tell already.
Last night I finally got eight hours of sleep, aside from several prolonged coughing fits. The previous three nights I’d only gotten four hours of sleep. You’d think the extra rest would make me feel better, but I’m still running short on good sleep because I have this bronchitis or whatever (we’re waiting on the lab results from the nasal swab to see if I have Pertussis, holy shit).
At least I only have to work one job today. But I’m teaching an evening class and I suspect that by then some of my cognitive functions will be running on Reserve Power. At least it’s a subject I’ve done several times before, so I can get by with using a lot of verbal scripts.
It’s going to be a long day; I can tell already. That’s because I’m already running into “System Overload: Error Messages”.
P.S. I’m going to have a bowl of Mint-Chip ice cream and see if that doesn’t do anything for me, since the efficacy of Häagen Dazs Vanilla Swiss Almond ice cream isn’t up to par. Thanks, Bev!
[now clink on this link for System Overload: Error Messages where post continues]
“You sound sick,” stated my daughter’s fiancé, M.
“I can’t be sick,” I mumbled in protest, and honked into a tissue.
“Redunculus; you’re sniffling.”
“I can’t be sick; it was Mr W’s day to be sick,” I explained. “He got first dibs on being out sick today … If all the classroom staff members who were sick stayed home, there wouldn’t be anyone left!”
I’m sure the students wouldn’t have minded having some of their classes cancelled. But no, we slogged through the day, hour after dreary, mind-numbing, O-PLZ-STFU hour. It was, I decided, a veritable hotbed of apathy. The lead teacher was battling a sinus infection, and I was suffering from what felt like temporal phase-shifts. And my aches ached. My ears were ringing and making sharp pains and I was having dizzy spots and nausea. I was cold and then would have a sneezing fit and then be hot, and would have some odd spastic tic and then be cold again. They cannot invent a vaccine for this shit any day too soon.
It’s worse when you’re feeling crappy and working 60 hours a week. But it seems like every few days I discover yet another person who’s working multiple jobs, the latest being a cashier with two jobs and Lupus. (Maybe what the economy really needs is for everyone to take a week off just to get some rest already. All in favor say, “Aye!”)
And then there’s the strange stress nightmares I get before a semester starts, going through an interminable dream about teaching 3rd grade but starting the same day the students do, and having an unworkable U-shaped classroom without a chalkboard or whiteboard, and the women’s bathroom stalls all cost 75 cents in quarters to use, and …
If you, too, are ready for a diversion, our favorite engineers (previous post) have a new video up on Advanced Cat Yodeling. M just about ROTFL, as he has been Yodeling with his cats for a long time, and favors the Machine Gun Kiss™ approach.
Maybe you’ve heard of “diver’s bends”: decompression sickness that affects divers (or fliers), resulting from gas molecules that collect into bubbles in the body, much like the carbonation that results when you pop the top on a container of soda.
Waking up lately has been similar to the bends, albeit not for the same reasons, nor as deadly (I’m not making light of a serious medical issue). But for whatever reason, many of the symptoms are quite similar: joint pain, headaches, nausea, dizziness, muscle fatigue, seeing spots, and sometimes numb or tingling fingers.
Not surprisingly, it’s hard to get out of bed. I lay there, hoping it passes quickly. Rarely does the dizzy-nauseous aspect does abate after 15-30 minutes, and sometimes the extreme nausea lingers all day and then I’m taking meclizine because the school hallways remind me of an unpleasant trip on the English Channel ferry. Not only does this make it hard to get to work on time*, but it also makes it difficult to get downstairs and eat some breakfast so I can then take my regular morning meds for pain and such. (Yes, irony, and the not-so-terribly-humorous sort.)
The last time I had a particularly hideous vertigo attack that landed me in the ER (A&E), my GP later decided it was an effect of the previous day’s migraine. I don’t know if there’s such a thing as “chronic migraine-related sleep bends”, but I sure as hell wish it would go away, ditto the tinnitus that’s been particularly obnoxious lately. It’s making it difficult to get to job #1 on weekdays, or temporary job #2 on Saturdays, and by evening I’m so exhausted I don’t know how I’m going to do potential job #3 (for which I’m interviewing on Wednesday).
Maybe I should check back with my GP, so see if there’s anything he can recommend besides, “Have you tried nibbling on some saltines … okay, some gluten-free crackers?”
* My record for morning hygiene, dressing, packing lunch and getting into my car is just 20 minutes, but that only happens if the night before I have parcelled bits of food into wee plastic boxes, and also done up all but the top two shirt buttons (to reduce arthritic fumbles), and tracked down and laid out all of the components for my change of clothes. For some reason, choosing clothes or lunch food is way too mentally taxing and manually difficult in the morning, compared to something “easy” like driving in traffic. Don’t ask me why.
This morning I’m again in pain and rather stiff. I know that many of you have rather specialised knowledge, and would appreciate your thoughts on getting diagnostics.
I have a number of conditions, both common and uncommon, including Raynaud’s, migraines, cough-variant asthma, tinnitus & hyperacussis and Auditory Processing Disorder, motor tics, and assorted neurological glitches including prosopagnosia (face-blindness) and ADHD. Getting these things diagnosed over the past decade has been wonderfully helpful for those that can be medicated, figuring out how to make accommodations for those that can’t, and being able to prove to others that I have documented reasons for difficulties, and that I’m not being lazy or stupid.
However, the crux of this post is that I also have Continue reading Requesting your thoughts, please
So, recently I was observed while teaching an evening class, and a couple weeks later had the opportunity to meet and discuss the professor’s observations. Except for one problem, most everything else can easily be resolved.
I was able to explain how the combination of illness and exhaustion were affecting me, as well as how accessory issues like Auditory Processing Disorder and tinnitus and prosopagnosia meant that I had to either work harder or do some things differently. I explained how I took notes during the classes of what I wanted to do differently, to keep improving my teaching. I think that overall the discussion went well.
The prof had some really good suggestions, such as repeating questions, or asking students if I had answered their question. He reminded me not to mutter to myself when looking for something, as it was distracting to the students.
Since the observation, I decided to have the students pick up their returned papers from a pile, instead of trying to pass them out. That had not worked out well. Due to my faceblindness, I was carrying around my seating chart and asking each person if they were so-and-so before handing them their paper. Students can accept that the first week or two of school, but even though I have mentioned my problem more than once, the concept is really hard for most people to get their brains wrapped around.
Halfway into the semester, I’ve finally sorted people out with regards to my prosopagnosic identification crutches, but I’m still working getting the names attached to their individual gestalts. The other week I was entering grades and finally realised that there’s a student who is in both of my classes! That this student is rather generic looking, quiet, and sits in the back of the classroom doesn’t help, faceblindness-wise.
But after the whole review experience had passed beyond the anxiety level into the stage of applying the information positively, I am still sighing over one point.
I thought I had gotten past this. I thought I had it down pat. But apparently, I still need to work on making eye contact.
‘There’ll be days like this,’
‘There’ll be days like this,’ Mama said.”
The Shirelles, “Mama Said”
Coming down with some virus most likely, as the school nurse says it doesn’t look like strep throat (despite the sore throat that’s making it hard to lecture). I can deal with that.
Headache, only ’bout a 4 out of 10, not so bad of itself. I can deal with that.
Ditto the tinnitus, which alas, seems to be making it more difficult to understand people, especially those students more than a few feet away from me, which is most of the time — why do the most soft-spoken students sit in the back corner? The auditory processing glitches don’t help, either; I’m sure some of the students think I’m not paying attention, or am losing my hearing. At least no one is going around yelling to me in the mistaken impression that volume = clarity.
Five hours sleep. Definitely need to get to sleep sooner, and I would were it not for the class prep I have to do before and after classes. Okay, now it’s getting really challenging. I’m dropping words in the middle of my sentences once or twice an hour, and does that ever make me feel stupid.
I’m hungry because I didn’t eat much due to the sore throat & canker sore.
Two of the pieces of paper I really needed to have with me were not in my binder. No, I’m sorry, I don’t remember the date of the next exam right off the top of my head. No, I’m sorry, I haven’t memorized the ID labels to all of the slides (but I can tell you what’s important about the slide).
We were reviewing the results of the first exam. This is the first college-level science class that many of the students have had, and some of them haven’t had a science class in years. Bumpy ride. It’s also the first full exam I have written, and every teacher knows the hidden hazards of writing such.
For some reason I decided to hand the graded exams out, rather than just letting the students pick their own test up. I’m faceblind, and have not yet memorized the seating chart. Definite planning error on my part.
My PowerPoint — that delightful gizmo that helps keep the tired, the distracted, the forgetful, the sick, and the first-time teacher from losing track of the game plan — the PowerPoint file on my flashdrive proved to be an older version that did not have the other half of the slides I needed to remind me what I was going to tell the class this evening. That too, of itself I could deal with, although the presentation was not at smooth as I would have liked, and we had to go back a few times and fill in something I had not mentioned earlier.
But all of these things together, oy vey! I muddled through everything, but did not feel very brilliant or smooth. I didn’t even have all of the lab equipment fully prepped because I had rushed in right before class.
And then shortly after class started, one of the professors came in to do a surprise Observation of me as a new instructor.
At least I didn’t have my trouser zip left undone, or have a strip of toilet paper (loo roll) stuck to my boot!
Mama said there’ll be days like this …
“It’s been a long week — I bet you’re ready to decompose.”
I stared at my husband, blinking through the mental fog of too-many-jobs-not-enough-sleep.
“I’m not ready for the compost pile yet,” I replied, trying to figure out what his latest malapropism was meant to be.
“Or whatever the term is,” he added.
My brain finally catches up. “Decompress,” I answered.
What an incredibly long week. I can’t remember the last time I had one like this, and in my over-busy world that’s saying something.
Wednesday last week I had a pneumonia vaccination, which left my arm so sore I couldn’t take off my jogbra without assistance, nor even get my hand up to head level until the weekend. Moreover, Continue reading Backwards Symphonies