I thought that I should delve into the world of blogging since I am wanting to include this writing medium in my Writer's Craft lessons. I don't know what to say and I am certain that I will not have time, but it could be a good experiment.
The last time I wrote for myself and not for my job was quite some time ago. Although I teach English, I do not consider myself an expert in the subject.
So where to start? I guess I could start with my busy day.
Currently I am on a 1/2 time leave from school so that I can drive to Toronto every day for five weeks to get Radiated at PMH - the ugly melanoma bit again this year. It is gone, long gone, but the radiation is the only precautionary treatment they can offer since I have already done a year of Interferon (6 years ago)
So, I dragged myself out of bed to teach period 1 - grade 12 English. I probably could have let the sub take that class, but I like them and we are working on Fifth Business and I would rather teach it myself. I'm a control freak, slightly.
The drive to Toronto was not too bad. We take the subway from Yorkdale Mall to PMH. I like the subway. I love that there are different people on the subway every time I ride it. I know it probably isn't subway etiquette to look at other people on the subway, but I do. I like to see what people are wearing - especially on their feet as I am currently in search of a new pair of boots. I guess it isn't as obvious to look at stranger's feet. I like to see what they are reading. I like to see who they are with. I like the thought that I will likely never see them again once they or I get off. I like to imagine what their lives are like. Are they on their way home to a cozy fire or is he off to his girlfriend's house? The subway is filled with story starters.
We didn't have to wait long once we got to PMH - we have only had to wait more that half an hour twice, which is more than fantastic. I have seen the same technicians most days now (this is my 4th out of 25). They seem so young - and my young I mean relatively the same age as myself. They are very nice but I think that maybe I would feel just a bit better if they were older.
The treatment itself at the moment is no big deal. It takes about 20 minutes all together. I am certain that aliens run our medical system - they must have brought their strange probing equipment to earth to secretly prob us. The radiation machine is from a different planet. It is made up of about 2 or three different parts that swing around my head and shoulders. It stops at four different spots and makes a beeping noise for about a minute each time. All the while, several green lasers beam down upon me. I have not felt any burning, but apparently the cells in the area targeted are being burned. They put a gel-sticky on my scar to concentrate the radiation to that spot. I trust that everything is working as it should - I trust mainly because I don't really understand.
After driving back up through traffic today, Ian and I had dinner and now he is off to the Dodge-ball finals (most likely to lose again) and I am figuring out how to blog so I have something valuable to share with my writer's craft students. I should probably be marking instead, but whenever there is something to do other than mark, I choose the something else.
Well the dogs are fed and silent for once and a new episode of CSI just started, and once I start, I have to see how the story ends.
Another day,another blessing.
