i hope this cuts... it's my day read it. my life RULES
so yesterday I go to the doctor for a 3.45 apt at 4.30 i ask if they know I’m still alive because I feel as if I’m hanging on by a thread, i ask for a pen and paper, I make a sign, it reads, Natalie Hughes, please wake.
I had a strep test, neg a tori.
today I have cold sweats and shivers, my body aches, I can hardly swallow, I have spots on my tonsils. I self medicate with an old penicillin prescription. my life rules.
I had an awful day at work today.
Kevin, whom no one can understand his speech impediment is so bad. I tend to use something I learned in therapy, active listening. When he says something I repeat it back to him to make certain I’ve got it right, even still half the time he corrects me, I’ve taken to asking him to write things down. The sad thing is the kid is really fucking smart, just slow as molasses in the dead of winter. All his tests are poor scores because he stairs into space until the list five minutes, then fills in four questions, all correct, but the other 20 left blank, yeah well, they kill his curve. Today he came in crying because his mom didn’t send him an apple in his snack. I tell him he can get one after school. I mean really we only go till noon and it’s just an apple. He tells me he has a loose tooth he’s looking to lose by eating the apple. Chris Lopez, who btw is in no way of Hispanic decent and therefore boggles my mind, offers Kevin parts of his apple when it’s snack time. Snack time rolls around and Kevin is walking around the room biting the apple piece and looking at it and tonguing his tooth to see if he’s had any success in biting it out. After a while he comes to me saying he lost it. Not just that it came out but seriously he lost it, as in, doesn’t know where it is. I tell him he probably ate it and he won’t be getting it back. Chris Lopez says oh you’ll get it back when you go potty but you won’t want it. We all cringe simultaneously. Kaitlyn is trying to help by looking for the tooth that is MIA by looking around the room. She yells to me “What does it look like” I yell back the logical “It looks like a tooth?!” I mean really what was she expecting. We don’t find the tooth.
Trevor is EBD, Emotionally and Behaviorally Disturbed. All these fru-fru terms for kids that can’t sit still. In my day we had no such crutch. I’m dyslexic and prone to staring off at shinny things and I made do just fine. Well Trevor is already eaten by the system of it’s not my fault, you all hate me, blah, blah, blah. Today he’s trying to do his spelling test, but the kid rushes. The doesn’t sound them out. You try to help him ask him what letter makes the sound ssssss and he says t. brilliant. Then when you try to correct him he starts slamming his head into his desk saying “do you want me to go to military school?” Now I don’t really want the kid in my class but military school is decidedly no place for a 7 year old that cries a lot. He starts to fight with Reginald, oh Reginald, we’ll get to him in a minute. So Trevor lays on the ground in the classroom with his face in the carpet and says Reginald is looking at him, laughing at him. I’m thinking what’s next “is he also breathing your air?” I don’t dare suggest this as a possibility. Trevor informs Reginald that he’s not his friend anymore, I tell Trevor saying things like that isn’t going to make anyone want to be your friend.
Reginald has had a good past two days, and that’s saying something. Usually he’ll cry so hard his body shakes, put his pencil in his hand so that his thumb is stopping the eraser and point the end at other people in a stabbing motion and tell me that he’s mad at me. He wont’ talk or be bribed, he says he’s an angry little boy and he needs to be left alone until he calms down.
Then I start to get the shakes, cold sweat, body ache, tonsils hurt shakes. I’m in a long skirt and long sleeves and a sweater, rocking myself on a desk top trying to write on the board, my eyeballs feel like they’re the temperature of the sun. I ask Chris to go get the principal this day has been just a little bit too much for ole Miss Hughes to take. She takes one look at me sitting on the desk wrapped in winter clothes in July and may I add I have a thermometer hanging from my face, and sends me home. Now I’m driving home and I look at my throat in the mirror, feel free to start at the top of this again…. I have spots on my tonsils…
Thus was my day.
I had a strep test, neg a tori.
today I have cold sweats and shivers, my body aches, I can hardly swallow, I have spots on my tonsils. I self medicate with an old penicillin prescription. my life rules.
I had an awful day at work today.
Kevin, whom no one can understand his speech impediment is so bad. I tend to use something I learned in therapy, active listening. When he says something I repeat it back to him to make certain I’ve got it right, even still half the time he corrects me, I’ve taken to asking him to write things down. The sad thing is the kid is really fucking smart, just slow as molasses in the dead of winter. All his tests are poor scores because he stairs into space until the list five minutes, then fills in four questions, all correct, but the other 20 left blank, yeah well, they kill his curve. Today he came in crying because his mom didn’t send him an apple in his snack. I tell him he can get one after school. I mean really we only go till noon and it’s just an apple. He tells me he has a loose tooth he’s looking to lose by eating the apple. Chris Lopez, who btw is in no way of Hispanic decent and therefore boggles my mind, offers Kevin parts of his apple when it’s snack time. Snack time rolls around and Kevin is walking around the room biting the apple piece and looking at it and tonguing his tooth to see if he’s had any success in biting it out. After a while he comes to me saying he lost it. Not just that it came out but seriously he lost it, as in, doesn’t know where it is. I tell him he probably ate it and he won’t be getting it back. Chris Lopez says oh you’ll get it back when you go potty but you won’t want it. We all cringe simultaneously. Kaitlyn is trying to help by looking for the tooth that is MIA by looking around the room. She yells to me “What does it look like” I yell back the logical “It looks like a tooth?!” I mean really what was she expecting. We don’t find the tooth.
Trevor is EBD, Emotionally and Behaviorally Disturbed. All these fru-fru terms for kids that can’t sit still. In my day we had no such crutch. I’m dyslexic and prone to staring off at shinny things and I made do just fine. Well Trevor is already eaten by the system of it’s not my fault, you all hate me, blah, blah, blah. Today he’s trying to do his spelling test, but the kid rushes. The doesn’t sound them out. You try to help him ask him what letter makes the sound ssssss and he says t. brilliant. Then when you try to correct him he starts slamming his head into his desk saying “do you want me to go to military school?” Now I don’t really want the kid in my class but military school is decidedly no place for a 7 year old that cries a lot. He starts to fight with Reginald, oh Reginald, we’ll get to him in a minute. So Trevor lays on the ground in the classroom with his face in the carpet and says Reginald is looking at him, laughing at him. I’m thinking what’s next “is he also breathing your air?” I don’t dare suggest this as a possibility. Trevor informs Reginald that he’s not his friend anymore, I tell Trevor saying things like that isn’t going to make anyone want to be your friend.
Reginald has had a good past two days, and that’s saying something. Usually he’ll cry so hard his body shakes, put his pencil in his hand so that his thumb is stopping the eraser and point the end at other people in a stabbing motion and tell me that he’s mad at me. He wont’ talk or be bribed, he says he’s an angry little boy and he needs to be left alone until he calms down.
Then I start to get the shakes, cold sweat, body ache, tonsils hurt shakes. I’m in a long skirt and long sleeves and a sweater, rocking myself on a desk top trying to write on the board, my eyeballs feel like they’re the temperature of the sun. I ask Chris to go get the principal this day has been just a little bit too much for ole Miss Hughes to take. She takes one look at me sitting on the desk wrapped in winter clothes in July and may I add I have a thermometer hanging from my face, and sends me home. Now I’m driving home and I look at my throat in the mirror, feel free to start at the top of this again…. I have spots on my tonsils…
Thus was my day.