I’m not a patient person, so when I sprained my ankle and it didn’t get better quickly, I was not happy. First I ignored it. “I’m sure it will be fine.” I told my husband. I iced it. I raised it. I rested it. But after four weeks and only minimal improvement, it became quite evident that the ankle was not going to heal itself.
I made an appointment with my orthopedic doctor. He took X-rays and gave me the good news that nothing looked too concerning. He gave me a more supportive brace and a prescription for physical therapy. “Sprains can take a looooong time to heal,” he said, “Be patient.” I’m trying to be patient. I’ve started physical therapy. I’m doing my exercises morning, noon, and night. It hurts to stretch my ankle. It’s sore when I finish a set of exercises. My ankle’s starting to feel a little better, but it’s still sore and weak. I know I am in for the long haul. I know it will get better if I put in the time and effort to do the exercises and keep off the tennis court. I know I’ll be OK. I just have to “take it slow“.
I’m teaching a remote learning class of first graders this year. The early weeks were so hard, painful really. I felt so out of my element. We were told about our assignment at the last minute, and learning about all of the technology, new curriculum information, new systems, and the lack of any clear cut direction was so hard. All of us had days filled with tears, days when we wanted to walk away, and days when we just didn’t think we could do this anymore. In September, the thought of a whole year of teaching remotely did not make me happy.
Now, in the middle of October, I’m limping along. I’m finally beginning to find some sort of rhythm to the day. I’ll be honest, the rhythm is often interrupted by more testing mandates and changes in procedures, or a student who still struggles to find Google Classroom, but it’s feeling better than it felt a month ago. I’m trying to do the work; be prepared, engage students, meet their various needs, meet with my grade level team, complete the necessary assessments and data collection, and keep in touch with my families. I’m putting in the time and effort. Some days are better than others. I’m trying to tell myself that we’ll be OK. I just have to “take it slow”.