I am TIRED. I’m fatigued. I cannot get enough sleep.
It’s testing season at work. We have STAAR testing. We have AP testing. My students are tired. I’m tired. My husband is tired. My children are tired. We’re just TIRED.
I saw a cancer counselor. She asked me how I’m coping with, what she called, the top two physical issues of survivorship: fatigue and memory/concentration issues.
Uh? As best I can?
I’m still trying to go, go, go as I did before cancer. I go until I hit a brick wall (normally metaphorically, but there are brick walls throughout the high school I teach at, and I’ve been known to turn and run into one as I try to avoid getting run into by students during passing periods 🙂 ) Consequently, I’m TIRED. So, basically, the fatigue is my fault. And chemo’s fault. And radiation’s fault. Ultimately, it’s cancer’s fault.
I force myself to stay awake at night so I can read or play a game and relax, which I need to stop. Tuesday night was one of those nights where I was so tired, I started crying and being bitchy to A. He took my iPad out of my hands, told me to go to sleep, kicked the cats out of the room, turned off the lights, and shut the door. I hate when he does that to me, but he’s right. I needed sleep. And, I slept. Just not enough. It feels like it’s never enough.
My AP students have the AP test next week. I’m holding tutorials every day after school and a night session. The night session is a killer. I know the adage of if they don’t know it by now, they’re never going to know it, but I’m not that kind of teacher. I teach bell-to-bell, everyday, full out, we have things to learn, things to do better, we can do better and be better, so we’re going to go until the day of the test. My students have worked hard, and they deserve nothing less than my best, my support, and my belief in them.
This fatigue makes it so hard for me to be everything I need to be to everyone. I need to do, though because, secretly (not so secret anymore!) I’m afraid I won’t be around to keep doing.
I have no faith my cancer is really gone or won’t come back. I just don’t. So, I go and do and push myself to the limit because I don’t know if I’ll be able to go and do and push myself in the future.
I push myself beyond my limits. I don’t want to have limits. I want to live. I want to do and be. I don’t want to allow cancer to defeat me. Yet, I fear it will, so I’d rather be tired. At least I’m alive.