Frustration

Am I getting too old for this profession? Maybe I’m getting spoiled by my college composition class. But my normal sophomore comp classes are starting to wear on me. Most of the kids put out a minimal effort. Some never shut the hell up. I even caught one kid today carving up his arm with a paper clip. He was telling some friends this week or last week that he was thrown out of his house. Another girl mentioned being in the truck with her father while he was pulled over for a DUI. I have another student who works every day at McDonald’s and rarely comes to class. Our assistant principal is trying to file truancy on him, but he is having trouble with that.

I want to teach kids how to write, how to negotiate their identities, how to discover new things about themselves and what they think. I don’t want to deal with this other shit.

On the positive side, I have one student who was gone last week for several days because she and her boyfriend were in a severe car accident. She wrote her essay yesterday and spent all day typing it up and revising it. She has found something important to write about and has run with the assignment. How do I get the rest to do this?



*****


Dad got his biopsy results back: cancer. He never had pneumonia. His cancer has spread to his other lung now. What is frustrating is the faith I have lost in hospitals and the medical professions in general. They pumped Dad full of antibiotics for nearly four days, all for naught. All while the cancer was growing in his lungs. Then we met with one of his cancer doctors and he told Dad (I was there and heard it myself) that he didn’t know “what in the hell is in your lungs, but we’re treating it as cancer. It’s damned funny stuff.” It seems, from what I have been able to piece together, that Dad has two different types of cancer in his lungs. One type is in the form of nodules in his lungs. When he had his last ct scan, these appeared to have shrunk from his chemo treatments. Another type is in the form of a spiderweb appearance in his left lung. They initially thought it was tuberculosis and Dad’s other doctor was shocked when her biopsy revealed it to be cancerous. Yet this other doctor says he doesn’t know what it is, but the other doctor calls it cancer? Frustrating.

But that doesn’t change this: I’m going to lose my father. I had a rough day last Friday. But that realization has, somehow, made it easier. I have no trouble writing those words - my father is going to die. It’s horrible and I don’t want to be without both my mother and father, but denying the truth does me no good. For me, the truth brought some form of peace.

Tomorrow we go to meet with his second doctor to go over his second ct results. I’m glad I’m going with so I can try to get to the bottom of what the hell is going on. But what do I know about cancer? We are also going to go over to the new cancer center in Grand Forks to try to get a second opinion from their doctors.

Yes, I’m going to lose him sooner rather than later. So an average trip to Grand Forks has become anything but ordinary. For that I’m thankful. I value every moment with Dad like never before.