This week was brought to me courtesy of the colors black, white and red.
And the letters....G and R as in GRRRRRRRR.
If you are weak when it comes to gorey details....too bad......keep reading.......just have the trash can near. And if you don't want to hear me get all revved up about working for the state government......sit back down and hear me out....you will either empathize with me, cause you work there too.....or you will thank your lucky stars that you don't.
Let's see.....where to begin........I work in an elementary school. I love my job. Love. Passionate about those kids. Laugh every day. It's my ministry. But there are times, when my real life gets in the way. Like this week. And God forbid your life gets in the way of your job.
Will has been having nose bleeds all week. Since Monday, he has had 3 or 4 a day. He has had a couple of them at school, been woken up by one at 3:00 am on Tuesday morning, sent home from work with one on Tuesday afternnoon (donchoo be gettin yo blud on them spensive clozzzzze.), but the worst one was yesterday morning.
I am getting ready for work, when I hear this scream/cry/yell......."MMMMAAAMMMMAAAA!
I thought Will had found one of the dogs dead........but instead he ran down the stairs holding a towel to his face as blood was coming out of his nose AND EYES.
This has only happened one other time to him, but he was too little to remember. Will has always experienced nose bleeds.......but usually only 1 or 2 at the beginning of winter when we turn the heater on for the first time. One time, when he was about 5, I was pinching his nose up to stop the bleeding and the blood starting squirting out of his tear ducts. Yes, I said tear ducts.
YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN A BIGGER BUNCH OF SCREAMING IDIOTS THAN ME, CHUCK, JORDAN AND CAMERON ! We were all screaming and freaking out and yelling and gagging and I was screaming "hand me the damn phone "(cause I am one handed and attached because I am holding a towel to Will's nose) and Chuck is standing there gagging and frozen and I continue to scream until the phone is given to me and then I dial and .........blah, blah, blah....leave my number for the doctor to call me back because of course, it's after office hours. Because life only happens after office hours.
Once the doctor calls back and I start to tell him .....he interrupts "and then the blood came out of his tear ducts?" (He says this in the same voice he would say, "I'll have an ice tea." to a waitress). So his calmness, calmed me and my calmness, calmed the other idiots.....not really.......they had already left the room by now....and by the time the doctor called me back the blood had stopped squirting. Show over, everyone left the theater.
So thankfully, when Will was so upset yesterday, I remained very calm. It took 45 minutes for his nose to finally stop bleeding and I will not tell you that when he pulled the towel away, out came a clot the size of a hot dog. I'm sorry, but you have got to be here with me emotionally when I get to the black & white part. That was the red part.
During the 45 minutes we are waiting for Will's nose to stop bleeding, I am calling his school to report his tardiness, emailing my school to let them know I will be there, but not on time. I am writing a note to the attendance office.....because the phone call is not enough for them. Throwing blood soaked towels away. Washing the blood off both of my arms. Then calling Chuck to scream at him for having a real job. A real job where he can just push away from his computer and leave the building. A real job where he carries a blackberry so he is on call 24 hours.......so no problem if he has to step away for a moment.
I beg him to take over, call a doctor, get Will an appointment because this is the 12th nose bleed Will has had this week and something is wrong here. Kick in. (Really, I think I am being mean to him, but he never seems to have to witness the bodily things I have to witness AND clean up....so a little meanness is the least I can do to feel like it's equal here.)
He gets Will an appointment, takes off work (just has to walk past his admin. assistance's desk and say as he is walking past her, "I'm leaving.") comes home, gets Will to the appointment. The doctor sees an ulcer/sore/open place and a blood vessel very near the surface in his upper left nostril. It needs to be cauterized. He needs to see a specialist. That would be today at 4:00 p.m. in the Medical Center (an hour or more away). Good. That's what I wanted.
Then Chuck tells me he can't take off today because he has a meeting with the blah, blah, blah, important, blah, blah, project, blah, blah. So I email the decision makers at my work and let them know that I will be at work today, but I need to leave at 2:00 to get my son to a specialist in the Medical Center by 4:00.
I get an email back telling me I have to take a half day off because I don't have any compensation time. A half day means leave at 12:15. But I don't need to leave at 12:15. I can stay and work and do my hardest duties (lunch and bathrooming 60 to 120 five year olds). And comp time? Hello? I stay every day until 4:10 or 4:15 loading cars while others walk away at 4:00.
Guess what? No favors given for going beyond the call of duty. It's all very black & white. My hours are from 8:00 until 4:00. I get 30 minutes for lunch. I can leave 1 hour early each school year, up to 3 1/2 hours, without being counted. I can take that 1 hour up to 3 1/2 hours...but never more than 1 hour at a time....never earlier than 3:00......that's it. IT. Now you must take off a half a day. Even if you only need 2 hours. Or if you've never even taken 1 of those 3 1/2 hours. Huh?
It's the rule. Black & white. The rule. Whether it makes any sense at all.
And the thing is, I am a rule follower. But life isn't black & white.
Dear family. Please get sick on the weekends, school holidays or after 4:15 p.m.
Post Note: Just returned from the specialist....... a place on Will's septum was cauterized. Hurt like the dickens but he was very brave. He's on the mend although a little sore. After a very long scope went up his nose, they pronounced his nose as "looking good."
When I was adding to this post, I noticed that it is Post # 201....which means the post about Paul was #200.........I think that was a sign. Because awhile back, I thought to myself that I was almost at my 200th post.....somewhere in the 180's...then went about my business and forgot about it. Just now when I was updating this post, I had to go to Edit Post. That's when I saw 201 and realized Paul's was 200.
I had thought I might do a give-away on the 200th post, like alot of the blogs that I read do. But I think I got the gift.
Okay, maybe it wasn't a blatant sign, but Paul was very quiet and understated. He would send a sign like that. I'm sure of it. Or maybe I just want it very badly.