March 15th I drove home on a sunny afternoon from teaching my math and literature classes at Torat. I went home for a brief period to change, then got in my car to drive to my tutoring job for a few hours. On the way my nose kept running and I kept sneezing. Once at the center I still kept on sneezing and blowing my nose. I assumed spring hay fever. I left tutoring and drove not feeling spectacular to my meetup event I was hosting at a swank bar not far from tutoring and my own home. Obligatorily, I drank a slightly dirty Grey Goose Martini. It was mixed well, as they not all are. Then I went into a Brooklyn for my encore beverage, ate a half order of delicious fresh oysters, shared one. A friend’s friend gave me sips of her cocktails to taste, landed me the tail end of her last drink. No, not drunk. I am sick. I snuck out of the event as twenty-six people were there having a good time at my posting of this event online through my group I help host events for. Narwall coaxed fourteen people to go next door to my favorite sushi restaurant. My good friend, I call her the precariously married mommy, was going as well with her cohort Dina to my favorite sushi restaurant next door. But I was sneaking out and going home.
I stripped off everything after taking my temperature, a hundred and two. I went to sleep. Got up in the night and took an aspirin for my hangover headache, drank water. Woke up at whatever normal hour. One hundred and two. I thought if I slept all weekend and rested I’d be good to go for Monday morning. Sunday night I was still aflame. I called in for a sub. The idiot secretary in charge tried to demand I come in to work the next day, we had a three day week, and then Pesach break was upon us. Fuck you I thought as I demanded she get a sub, and emailed my boss to tell the secretary that her job is not to argue with sick teachers, just to find them a replacement!
Monday morning I took myself to the doctors. They swabbed my nose and told me I had Flu Type B. Remember the days when you would go in with a fever, and they would tell you that you had a virus? How they couldn’t do anything for you, to just go home and sleep? Or they gave you antibiotics anyways? Now they test it and come back two minutes later declaring you, in fact, have Flu Type B. Not A, the aggressive sibling, just B. You look to be perky and in good shape, but she, your doctor will write you a sick note as you have a high fever. You probably won’t feel better til maybe Thursday or Friday. Just go home and sleep, and take this antivirus Tamiflu.
Thinking I was delirious I took the prescription and drove myself onward to Rite Aid. As I got to my doctor at seven a.m. and it was ten minutes before eight a.m., the pharmacy is not open yet. I gather up a liter of cranberry juice, real 7-Up and two noodle soups. Wait another ten for the idiots to type up my order, and head home to sleep. I had visited my classroom the night before, driven by one husband to write up the lesson plans. Monday passes. Tuesday I send more lesson plans in. Monday I told them I was down for the count. Wednesday I still have this fever. I am exhausted, despite the fevered sleeping through out the day. Thursday morning I start at ninety-nine and creep up to one hundred. I had previously paid for myself to attend a teachers conference Friday the 22nd. I take two Advil and go. I feel like the walking dead, but I go.
I have missed attending three math classes since the thirteenth of March when I had twenty-one teacher conferences in a row, and got stuck in traffic trying to get to my math 312 class. I have been studying math since the summer of 2009, and in three years have not missed one math class. Now due to conferences, traffic and Flu Type B I have missed three in a row. But it is a teacher’s algebra class, not calculus. It is my last class to get a math authorization added to my multiple-subject credential, because there has been a shortage of public school elementary jobs since the time I cleared my credential in 2005. Hence, my need for a less popular credential, middle school math oughta do it.
Thursday before the teacher conference I dragged my sick ass out of bed for, I got a call from Antioch University. I had applied to their MFA in Creative Nonfiction Writing Program over the last summer. The school is so liberal that they called me personally to tell me I’d been accepted. I am excited, and dreading coming up with the two year tuition fee. They ask me if I’d like to start this June. I explain that no, I applied to start in December of 2013, because I was just finishing up a math credential I’d been working on for three years, and need a breather. I am excited to go and earn an MFA in writing. Maybe I’ll finally publish my writings as I learn how to. I don’t know where the money will come from. I don’t know if we, my husband and I, will try and pay for fertility exercises this summer as he can’t have children naturally. I will be thirty-eight in April. The joke is, I would make a better mother than most parents I know, and I know a lot of parents as I am a school teacher. But I have a nice life. It is too bad so many kids were given to maybe adequate parents, and adoption and fertility options are so expensive. Scholarships, grants. I have to get through to May thirteenth when this math studying marathon will finally conclude.
My husband and I have an opportunity to rent out an apartment that my great-aunt-in-law owned and her son-in-law now inherited. It is in a location we could not afford if not for the family pricing. Of course, Geo will leave a lot of the place as is and not bring the place up to market value, market value being twenty-four hundred. We will get this amazing location with everything in walking distance on the boulevard, amenities in the place consisting of a pool, a spa, a washer-dryer to use, and several square feet to reside in. I hadn’t wanted to pay a cent more than we do now, as moving is unnecessary. But the pool and spa will be a nice bonus to come home to, and of course it comes with two parking spaces.
May 13th, and then the end of this crazy busy school year of having been talked into teaching seven classes a day; and then summer. I don’t even know where we could travel to with the upcoming tuition and possible fertility options. But first thing is first, finish math, maybe move, find scholarships and grants, and then…the rest.