Period Two Redux

Wednesday, April 19, 1995

Only a few quick notes concerning stress, as I quickly type these notes before hurrying home, where Lisa is with Kyle—-she on break, he with a one-o-three fever. So, quickly, quickly.

Around two and a half years ago, in the midst of my first major production at Chumash, Romeo and Juliet (gee, around the time I had to replace my Juliet with only three or four weeks to opening), I started to have sharp stinging pains in my right shoulder/neck area. I usually carried my satchel-—an old, weather-beaten, leather job given to me by my parents for my teacher-credential program graduation—-in my right hand. And it hurt like hell whenever I lifted the bag.

After two weeks of this pain, I went in to see my doctor, who told me not to carry the bag in my right hand. Duh. He also told me that it was probably stress-induced. And he mimed what he thought would be typical movements that I made throughout the day. It was like he had a video camera on me all day. He nailed my every movement. All with the right arm. All of this was related. The stress tightened the muscles, the repetitious actions strained them, the stress aggravated the strain, and so on. I needed to start using my left hand more. And I needed to relax. Not take things—-the play, school, etc-—so seriously. He gave me a few methods, which I promptly ignored... just not enough time.

When the play was over, and when we went on winter break, the pain disappeared.

But by February, with the beginning of the new term (and thus planning for the spring production), the twinges came back. So I went to using my left hand almost exclusively. The twinge went away. But then I started having bouts of insomnia. I would fall asleep every night by ten o’clock, exhausted, only to wake between two and four in the morning, unable to fall asleep for another two hours. Then during the day, I would walk like the living dead. It was awful.

This went on for over a month. Then when I caught a particularly nasty case of the flu, I went to see my doctor again. I mentioned the insomnia. He asked if another play was starting. I smiled. Stress, again. The cure this time, beyond relaxing and the same to-be-forgotten methodologies—-would I never learn?--was warm milk and honey. It worked wonders. I even passed it on to other stressed-out teachers. And soon summer was there and the insomnia was gone.

Fall came, insomnia began, and I started up with the warm milk and honey again. The insomnia faded.

And the fluctuations went on through the spring. I had already given my notice for teaching drama, but I still had the final production to direct, my first musical. At least the insomnia was being held at bay, sort of. Only now I was starting to get really bad rashes on my shins. I usually get dry skin patches during the winter--artificial heat and all—-but these were really bad. Time passed. The rashes worsened. When we happened to be in the doctor’s office for some reason, I mentioned this to the doctor. Insomnia? he asked. Off and on. A new production? he queried. Yeah. And the rash, he said, was yet another breakout of stress. And he gave me a lotion that helped soothe the skin. But he told me again that I needed to relax. And again he gave me numerous methodologies to achieve this.

But summer and Kyle came and the rash went away.

In October, at the height of WASC pre-production, I was starting to get spike-like pains in my chest and side. Spasming intestines. Again stress.

Since February, I’ve had off-and-on running battles with the shin rash, and occasional spasming bowels, some brutal headaches, and lately the insomnia is coming back. Only there’s no production in sight.

All I know is that I’m exhausted. Not helping are... Kyle’s perpetual ear infection and recent high fevers... first period’s quiet lethargy (and the addition of a student who speaks English so poorly that she is also enrolled in English 101, the first English as a Second Language course... credit Ortiz for her enrollment [a situation he explained then abandoned with nothing more than civil chilliness])... second period’s Dantesquely hellish behavior (three more students today—one check-in and two transfers—with four drops [all no-shows, after a request for information I made following the addition of the third student (which had put me one over the union limit)])... Lisa’s grandfather’s cancer (for which he had been hospitalized earlier this week)... all the WASC fallout... working on the proposed alternate school-calendar project (one that has many old-line traditionalists freaking out as wildly as they must have when Frankie first sprung the four-period day)... the Kurtzmann-Grey stuff (and Kevin hasn’t been able to come across the memo again)... the in-laws’ impeding visit next week to help Lisa’s grandparents... and my pondering a new career...

Stress. But at least I’m now riding a bike. Isn’t that supposed to help?

And I’m running—-riding-—late. This was supposed to be only a few notes.