StevenLaura

A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

I think I'll move to Australia.

Saturday I was scheduled to take a test, possibly the last of my career, the one thing left to do before I become officially licensed to teach the classes I am already teaching. (Y'all are good readers, you read "I was scheduled" instead of "I took" and so you're already anticipating that the title refers to the test. Good for you. ARG, did I really just type that? Perhaps I've been a teacher of reading for too long!?)

I got there at 10:15 for a 10:45 test. The testing site had moved, so I waited for fifteen minutes for a woman to point us to the new building. As a result of the change, the test didn't start until 11:15. I sat down, pulled out my pencil, and worked on bubbling in my personal data. About half way through the personal data section, I wished I had had coffee that morning. "I'm so tired!" by the time it was over, I wanted to take a nap so bad that I actually closed my eyes to "try to get a few winks in before I have to take the test." The next twenty minutes were horribly difficult. I felt like I did my first month post-pregnancy. Everything was a cloud. I couldn't distinguish a fricative from an unvoiced consonant. I had to think SOOO HARD to figure out if undo or unite had the prefix on it. In other words, I was in trouble.

At about 11:45 or 12 the fire department evacuated the science building I was in. Some substance had got into the air. They were investigating. I told my fellow testers that I was glad, " I was SO tired in there!" I exclaimed. "I think I'll try to get some coffee before I go back in. " "I'm so tired too!!" exclaimed all the test takers around me (all that had been in my room).

I decided not to go for the coffee, I decided that it had all been the substance. I felt better after getting some fresh air, so I think I was right. At about 1:15, we still didn't know (a) if we were still taking the tests (only in a different location) (b) what the substance was or (c) what to do if we just wanted to go home and retake the test a different day. Thankfully it was all sorted out by 1:20. Except what the substance was. Despite my prodding, I went home (that's right, test was cancelled) not knowing.

So I called my sister for some tea and sympathy. She has mono. Two seconds on the phone with her suggested she wasn't the best idea of a person to call. She sounded AWFUL. "Get some sleep" I said, and hung up without telling her my story. I called S. He was changing E's diaper. "Can't talk now, hun." Called Dad. I figured he'd know what I could/should do. (I was a little worried about the substance and feeding E. I didn't know if it was appropriate to call the fire department.) "How are you doing?" He responded with a "not so good" and then elaborated that his pancreas was in pain, but that he was "toughing it out," not going into the hospital. Mom is, incidentally, on another continent. "I've seen what it's like when you have a pancreatitis attack, dad, you can't tough it out. By the time you figure out that you're going to have an attack, it's too late. You can't drive yourself to the hospital, and mom's not around."

By the time I got home and hugged my daughter and husband, Dad was in the hospital (he got himself driven in) having his second p attack since E was born. With mom gone, the nearest relative was my sister with really bad (in the third week of) mono. All other family were at least two states away. Mom is in a location secluded enough that an emergency trans-atlantic flight wasn't an option. To add to it all, mom and dad's house closes later this month. Dad was supposed to spend the week getting it ready. Needless to say, I hurt, and I was worried.

(Paranthetically, I called the fire department, they were less than helpful, so I decided to use my best judgement regarding feeding E.)

E and I think we'll rearrange my work schedule and take off for the midwest this weekend to help my folks out. Mom comes back on Saturday. Maybe we'll get there Thursday and see if we can't help dad feel better and the house look more done. We'll know by tonight if we're going.

Thus ends my horrible terrible day. It turned out not to be MY horrible terrible day after all, but instead a horrible terrible day for most of my family.