Teaching with Lupus

Managing lupus can be hard. It’s an unpredictable condition, so you never know how you’ll feel from minute to minute. Teaching, especially in this generation, is difficult. It is very stressful, and stress leads to flares.

Some people have asked me why I would risk my health for this career. There is actually only one reason. When I walk into the door, I feel needed. I’ve always wanted a career where I felt appreciated. The districts I’ve applied to over the years are not the ones teachers fight to get into it. They’re usually in areas that have a high turnover rate. However, I genuinely care about these students’ futures, and I want to make a difference. It may sound cliche, but it is the truth.

Unfortunately, this hasn’t always been an easy feat. My teaching career has been rocky to say the least. I’ve taught in five districts over the past seven years. I was cut from three of those districts.

When you are not tenured, they don’t have to give a reason for letting you go. In each district, I was told it was due to the low enrollment or budget. However, I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall during the meetings when they decided which teachers to cut. My evaluations were always good, and the students and parents loved me. I am sure that my absences were the deciding factor.

I wish they could understand that I try to miss as few days as possible. I’ve dragged myself into work many days when I knew I should have remained in bed. I sometimes wait to see my doctors by scheduling them on an off day. However, there are some days when I just have no choice but to call off.

This is the first year since I’ve been teaching that I haven’t been hospitalized. The school I am at this year is not nearly as stressful as some of the others. Teaching has definitely been a challenge, but the good has outweighed the bad. Nevertheless, I am thankful for this break to take care of myself.

A-ha!

God speaks to me all the time, but sometimes I don’t listen. It’s not purposely, but I second guess what I hear or I make excuses for why I can’t follow through.

This week I’d been contemplating ending this blog. I haven’t been focused on writing because I didn’t want to vent. No one wants to read about your miserable life. People like feel good stories.

I had to wait until I had something to share that wasn’t just me whining about my health issues. And it happened! I’m sitting here in the beauty salon waiting to get my hair done, and this lady was telling my stylist about how much yoga changed her husband’s life.

This was significant for a couple of reasons. One was because there aren’t many Black men who I know do yoga, and two because I just signed up for a yoga class that I was thinking about canceling.

I realized about six months ago after talking with a friend that I have nothing for me. I have no hobbies that are relaxing and induce joy. I spend my idle time watching TV and snacking. Very recently I realized that I’ve gained 20 pounds from that hobby. My energy level is poor at best. After work I only want to sleep.

Fast forward to a month ago when we had Teacher Institute Day. My district incorporated brain breaks in the day which included fun activities we could do. One of those activities was yoga. I’ve always wanted to try it, so I took that opportunity.

Even though I had never done yoga before, I felt like I had found my tribe. After the 30 minute session, I felt renewed. I knew I wanted to make this my hobby. This was something I could do for my spirit and my body. I was excited, so I signed up for a yoga class.

A few days later I found out my kidney was worse, and then I felt defeated. I fell into a slump of not wanting to do anything. Until today…today I was reminded that I need to think positive and do more things that make me happy.

Yoga is one of those things, but sharing my life with you all is one too. I’ll work on being more consistent with both.

Namaste.

Pleasant Surprises

My friends would say that I’m pessimistic; however, I’ve always described it as realistic. Living with a chronic illness, I generally cope by expecting the worse. Therefore, when I receive bad news I can still function. Yes, I cry and wallow, but then I pick myself up and keep moving. However, when good things happen, I am usually awestruck.

Today I received a call from the nurse who specializes in managing kidney disease. She informed me that it was time for me to be added to the transplant list. She also suggested that I ask friends and family if they’d like to be a living donor. I laughed and told her that I didn’t have anyone who’d offer me a kidney. She informed me that I wasn’t the first patient to laugh and say that, but she encouraged me to ask anyway.

So I did the easiest thing I could think of…I posted it on Facebook. I’ll admit that I only did it to prove the point that no one would be interested. I figured I’d get some nosy people who would ask questions and some people offering prayers. I was sure that no one would offer to give me a kidney.

But I was wrong! Seven people offered in the hour that I left the post up. I was really overwhelmed. I’m rarely speechless, but I was shocked. And the people who offered weren’t even my closest friends. I was really touched and inspired by the compassion shown. This gave me more motivation to keep fighting. Sometimes I feel so alone in this fight to survive, but today I was reminded that I have more people than I realized in my corner. I was pleasantly surprised.