The Mayest of Mays

 I don't even know where to start. I mean there's the regular end-of-year classroom stuff: standardized tests, calendar stuffed full of teaching interruptions, checklists, inventories, and order forms. But this May has held so much more...

I rolled into this May five months into a knee injury that just would not heal with two walking intensive trips on the calendar. This prompted me to begin pushing my doctor's office harder for an MRI and/or an appointment with an orthopedic doctor.

On the first weekend in May I saw my Columbian, Peruvian, American, Australian cousin (the countries where both her parents were born, she was born, and where her entire nuclear family now resides) for the first time since COVID. She's kind of a big deal in the Internet security world, and had been traveling to my area three or four times a year before the pandemic. But Australia's COVID protocols were stricter than most, and it wasn't until this month that she became an international traveler again. We spent time doing touristy things in downtown Seattle before taking her to the airport for the final leg of her international trip to San Francisco.

That same evening was my school's annual auction. I probably spent too much money, but I am happy with my purchases. The teacher experience my co-worker and I put together was only sold to one primary student family. We teach middle school. The family decided to donate the money to the school and not take the experience. While this resolved a conflict on my calendar, it was still kind of a bummer.

Following the talent show and the middle school play, I was slated to go on two trips with middle schoolers. From May 17-19 I went to Enviornmental Education camp with sixth and seventh graders. Eating lunch within minutes of our arrival on the first day, two naturalists came running and jumping up to me: "Mrs. Conrow! Mrs. Conrow! Do you remember us?" It was two sisters, former students of mine in a former school. I had taught fifth grade to one and half a year of eighth grade to the younger one as a long-term sub. They were so very excited to see me and both told me I had been their favorite teacher. That was the highlight of my month. Possibly the entire school year.

But recall the knee injury that would not heal. I had worked my way up to being okay after 7,000 steps each day. Perhaps I needed a bit of Aleve to sleep but could spend my teaching day doing most of what I needed to do, even if it wasn't all I wished to do. The first day of camp, I sat much more than any other adult on the trip. But I still took over 14,000 steps. 

The second day, I spent time on a car ride with another teacher driving a student back to school and returning to camp. He had broken a bone in his foot (ankle?) the night before, but we didn't know it yet. One of our parent chaperones is a doctor, and after her evaluation, she recommended x-rays. He wouldn't put weight on his foot, so her examination was inconclusive... We dropped him off at school where his mom was waiting to take him to urgent care. X-rays confirmed a broken bone, and he is now in a boot and on a scooter, awaiting further appointments to determine if he needs surgery.

Even with the long car ride and participation in the princess seat of the canoe class, I took over 13.000 steps on the second day. On Friday morning, our last day, my knee had a funky angular swelling on the outside and a persistent ache. The ache had started the night before, but had been bearable enough to allow me to sleep. The same doctor who had determined the student needed x-rays examined me and said the same thing my doctors and physical therapists had said: it's 99% for sure a meniscal tear. The adults relegated me to the lodge to elevate my knee and ice it. Except, I refused to ice it. The ice machine was broken at the camp. Our student who broke a bone had used a bag of peas the night before, which the kitchen asked to have back. I refused to use the same bag of peas to ice my knee, knowing someone might be eating said peas in the very near future.

The day after returning from camp I finally had my MRI. My younger child had scheduled service for his high school graduation on Saturday morning. My husband and he stepped into the garage to head out, but my husband rushed back in saying, "I need you to take him. We have a burst pipe!" as he shut off the water valve. We spent half of Saturday with the water off, and after picking up my son from his service, I was late to my MRI because I went to the store to buy water. (Turns out it was a leaky hot water heater, that left us without hot water until Sunday afternoon, and the "water mitigation" people hired by our insurance company are coming out soon to demolish the wall in the garage to determine and fix the extent of the water damage.)

Where was I? Ah... the MRI results say there is no evidence of a meniscal tear. But I have a deep fissure in my cartilage (which according to the Internet means I might need surgery), a tiny popliteal cyst, and a contusion on my femur. Today I had my last approved physical therapy appointment and a phone appointment with a doctor to discuss the results of my MRI. Both my PT and the doc on the phone suggested I look into renting a scooter for the most walking intensive trip on the itinerary for the trip to D.C. I will be heading to in one week.

Meanwhile, it feels like every day I find out about another eighth grade specific activity, assignment, or tradition that I didn't know about but need to organize before graduation on June 12. It IS the very Mayest of Mays.