Now there's a hiatus

Hmmmmm. Problematic hernias. Always caused by obesity apparently. Of course being twelve and a half stone I am morbidly obese, a quivering lump of frightened jelly waiting to expire in a moment from heart attack or stroke. I've grown quite fond of my hernia over the years. It gives me good warning of calorific overload and serves as a constant reminder of how weak willed I am when it comes to food - for my hernia is of the hiatus kind, the valve between stomach and oesophagus is a little wonky.

Consultant and GP alike blame ME. I did it. I am responsible. I am the careless twit who threw her health away on several (how I can lie) bars of chocolate delight and a walnut whip or two. I have gotten quite sick these days, not on chocolate though that would be rather nice, but on the victim blaming culture of 'oh well, I am so sorry you are suffering, but it is your own fault you know, Mrs Very Bad Person'.

Well stuff you. With chocolate. I didn't get the dratted hiatus hernia from eating chocolate at all........ if I turn the clock back twenty years I can see where it came from.

Imagine this.... a very slim woman of around thirty has a wonderful job in a preschool. Every morning, lovely slim lady and other slim friends turn up at the local church hall and set out all of the play equipment for the day. Some of that play equipment is HUGE, heavy wooden climbing frames of superb quality wood, filled to the brim sandpits loaded with scoops and rakes, dressing up boxes complete with the very latest in cast off ball gowns and rolled up carpets to spread beneath the bounty and protect little hands, knees and feet.

I remember the pains. For a couple of days I would live on arrowroot biscuits and Earl Grey tea until they settled down. Not for a moment did I think it was a medical condition, in my ignorance I thought I kept catching tummy bugs from the children!

So, those of you who tell me to lose two stones and it will go away, remember that heavy lifting is a cause too. I think my hernia is much more stubborn than two stones. It could be here to stay.

ANOTHER HIATUS:

Hmmmmmmm. Well, there's a thing. Another hiatus actually. Poised on the brink of actually CHANGING MY MIND I've hesitated. I love my job. I get to be as creative as I can be, I get to help people through some of the worst times in their lives. I get to send people into a rewarding and fulfilling future and begin them on a learning journey that should last for the rest of those lives. And am I happy? No.

Happiness is subjective of course so I will try to explain. I am happy standing in front of my class watching the learners light up with enthusiasm. I am happy when they grow and develop and learn and a whole new vocabulary and perspective becomes theirs. I am happy in the staff room with my wonderful colleagues. I am not happy being part of some big game where those of us who carry the good name of the learning establishment on our shoulders are being robbed of precious management and preparation time by the vicious greedy swipes from  above. Efficiency? Stinks of immorality and bullying.

Here's the hiatus: do I stick with it and gradually let my physical and mental health get squeezed thinner until I disappear altogether? Or do I make a move to another job?

There is another job on the horizon and it could be mine. It is a very different job involving a very different set of skills and it is with a company who actually care for their customer and care for their staff.

I would still be making a difference. A very different sort of difference, but a difference just the same. And a special one involving people at the very extreme of emotional distress. Therefore no more creativity with classes of students, mass hilarity or elated success.

I do so want to make a difference, that different difference. But I'm scared. What would YOU do?

Thinking about being squeezed, I think it's about time I tried another slimmers cupasoup. Yum.

Happy anniversary for the 28th my Lovely Pops! Kiss kiss kiss xxxx.
the spell check has stopped working. Soryr.

Postscript added February 2012. I didn't apply for the new opportunity, my Pops wasn't welcome and she would have been left alone for far too long during the day. There are lovely dog-carers to help out, but I am Pops's primary carer and she is my beloved little friend who I won't abandon for the sake of change. When the time for change is right, God will provide and equip. I wait.