Compliments and Daggers

Today was the last day of school (with students).  Wahoo!  Needless to say, I've been looking forward to this day for quite some time now.  Actually, I'm looking more forward to next Wednesday (my real first day of summer vacation).  I need this break more than I have ever needed one before.  I've even had worse classes than the one I had this year, but it's been a heck of a year and I need some time to myself.  Some time away from caring for other people's children. 

As for the title of this post, I experienced both of these things today.  The compliments came for a couple of different reasons.  One, I was wearing a new dress today.  Several people (mostly adults, but a couple of students too) told me I looked nice.  I thanked each of them, but it was bittersweet.  I bought myself the dress after our m/c was diagnosed because nearly all of the clothes I got for my birthday were maternity and I wouldn't have anything new to wear for spring and summer.  

The other compliment was likely not meant as one, but it's all in how you perceive things, right?  My students were playing a game and as part of a chant, they'd say, "...Guess who?  It might be you!"  Several of them would add phrases to the end, mostly, "...or your mom."  It got old, as they were just being silly (and let's face it, my tolerance for silly ran out on April 28), and I told them to stop that part because there weren't any moms in the room.  One little boy said, "What about you?"  I told him that I wasn't a mom and he said "Oh.  Well, you act like one."  He didn't say it in a mean way, and he seemed very sincere.  I took it as a compliment...whether he meant for me to or not.

The dagger?  Well, I had to have my blood drawn this afternoon for a repeat beta to check for a drop in levels.  We're waiting for it to go negative.  Somehow, I managed to get a different phlebotomist today.  I thought for sure I'd gone through them all by now.  She struggled to find a vein, dug around until she had her necessary vial, and sent me on my way.  As I was leaving, she said, "Good luck with this!"  I politely thanked her and walked away.  I didn't cry, though.  I decided instead to take a different interpretation to her remarks.  She meant well.  I can't fault people for not knowing.  So, instead of being sad and upset at her comments, I chose to look ahead.  The "luck" she was sending me was in hopes that my levels have reached zero and things will be able to move forward.  The saga that has been my life for the past month will return to some semblance of normalcy and, while I will never forget, I will be able to move on and jump the next hurdle.  Of course, I couldn't do that, either, without all of you.

Hugs and love,