Categories: uncategorized
Date: 09 September 2005 22:02:50
I can't believe it - back at school a whole week already. Not impressed on Monday, mind, to find that I was expected to stay the whole day AND that it was planned training without any time for really meeting with subject teams or for doing preparatory work for the terms ahead, but I decided in the end that I would follow my favourite piece of advice once given to a friend but which has stood me in good stead on several occasions - I would "waft calmly through". :)
Highlight of the day today had to be the moment when I asked my class of eleven-year-olds "if Snow-White and the seven dwarves invited Red Riding Hood and the wolf to their house, how many feet would you be able to count in there?" Answers were quite varied - 3, 11, 400, 21 ... I'm a bit worried about some of these one-legged dwarves! Oh, and I forgot my other interesting moment when my inquisition of a little lost soul who was standing in the middle of the carpark waiting to get run over yielded the repeated mournful response "but I'm waiting for my friend!, turning to downright indignant when I suggested he might be safer waiting on the adjacent pavement or playground.
Itinerant teaching is not to be recommended for the stress levels but will, I feel, do wonders for my slimline figure. Especially if I keep leaving my pencil case on the desk of the one upstairs classroom I teach in and leaving my box of books in the staffroom at the top of the other flight of stairs.
We've met out MacMillan nurse - a wonderful fellow whom I shall call Mr MacMillan, of course - and he has been able to suggest loads of good ideas to improve Dad's quality of life. He's also given me a prognosis - not so good. Still, I do need to know and it prepared me somewhat for the anaesthetist's comment today that the operation will be high risk but worthwhile simply because the risks of not doing it are far worse. I can see the months ahead being a challenge. It somehow seems not to sink in properly at the moment because Dad seems so well some of the time and at those times it's impossible to believe he's so ill, and then when he's not so well it seems a blessing to think that he's not going to suffer too long. I told Mr MacMillan that my greatest fear for Dad was watching him degenerate into an "old" man and was reassured but heartbroken by the words "He will be spared that."
Having the hospice and Mr MacMillan on my side at last is, however, a great relief. I don't feel so alone. I just still wish I could save my Dad all the fear and anxiety - at least with Mum she never really knew that she was going to die. But I dread the moment of saying goodbye to Dad as he goes for the operation. Oh God, that's scary. I hope one of my sisters can be here that day. In the meantime, though, we stay positive, keep a sensible balance, and enjoy life together to the full. He's already insisting that he and the boys will go to Osborne House for the afternoon on Sunday: "I paid for this year's subscription to English Heritage so I'm jolly well going to get my money's worth out of them before I go!" And he went to the residents' meeting to fight against the proposed extention to the local supermarket. (Least said, soonest mended on that point as our opinions don't exactly complement each other!!! ) Bravo, my brave Dad.
IN other news.... (*drum roll, fanfare*)..... Tiddles has read a book. Not only that, but he's now reading another one. Independently. Willingly. With enthusiasm and pleasure and enjoyment and pride. I am a very happy mummy!