Tuesday, April 1, 2014

April First, 2014

I know, I know!  It’s April 1st and I’m supposed to write a big sappy post about how this is the fifth anniversary of my kidney transplant.

And yes, I know that every year I go on about how "this is not April Fool's Day for me," and make this big effusive display of unbridled adulation for my donor, David.  I go into this big song and dance about how he’s my hero, and how awesome he is for volunteering to risk dangerous surgery to give me a kidney even though I’m not even family, and how he sacrificed so much to give me new life, and even gave up his vacation time to recover in a hospital with me, yadda yadda yadda.

But I’m really swamped this year, you guys.  I just don’t have the time for a long, laudatory post about Dave.  I would, really, because it’s all true and stuff but I’m really, really busy.   I used to have plenty of time to do this, while sitting around in doctor’s offices all the time, but I don’t have those opportunities these days, I’m just too busy.

I mean it!  I’m doing way too much these days.  Don’t believe me?  Fine.

Take today for example.  I got up before dawn and rolled out of bed to make mushroom and cheese omelets for my wife and I (we’re trying to cut down on carbohydrates these days,) and freezer waffles for the kids.  See how busy I am?  I couldn’t even whip up a fresh batch of waffles in the iron!  Rushed!

Then we have to get two kids ready for school.  And if you’ve never tried riding herd on a kindergartener and a preschooler, let me tell you it is exhausting work.  You have to be pretty sharp and energetic to get them clothed, fed, and headed in the right direction.  You can’t zombie-shuffle your way through things like that, you have to be on point.  Busy!

Once that is done, I have to load up the car with the day’s provisions: backpacks, lunchboxes, projects, dance bags, piles of papers I brought home to grade and only got half done; all that shit has to get to the car, and then I have to drive kid A to her school, then kid B to his school, and then fight my way through the morning traffic at our own school to find a parking space in the same time zone as school.  Hectic!

Inevitably we end up running late, so I have to haul my luggage cart full of goodies through the teeming throngs of unwashed teenagers.  You think it’s easy trying to navigate a rolly cart full of heavy books and papers in and between the hordes of kids, all lazily slouching towards first hour?  You think it’s easy trying to dash towards my classroom while dodging the oblivious shamblers who sullenly wind their circuitous route towards class?  No, dear readers, I assure you that moving through GenPop is no easy task.  But I bravely do it every school day, thank you very much.  Gruelling!

And then there’s the teaching itself.  Imagine being on your feet in front of class after class of angsty teens who have not only written you off as irrelevant to their lives and futures (what does an old guy know anyways?) but have also written off themselves and any chances they might have for a better life.  You have to sing and dance and practically do cartwheels (no,) to keep their attention, and perpetually exhort them to believe in themselves and do their best.  Think that’s easy?  You think that’s the kind of task one can simply coast through with blasé indifference?  Hell no, Jack!  That shit really takes it out of you!  You need some serious strength and endurance to keep up that pace.  Exhausting!

But after leaving it all on the classroom floor for eight–plus hours, I can’t just quit and take a nap; I got two more kids to worry about at home.  Picking them up from their schools, arranging times for the kindergartener’s afterschool clubs, picking up the girl from her dance class; these things take their toll as well.  Just being with young kids is a draining experience, with their constant questions, and needs, and demands to be picked up, carried around on shoulders, and generally wanting to use you as a jungle gym, especially on weekends, running around after the little animals.  And then you have to bring them along on your basic tasks like grocery shopping.  Have you ever taken two little kids to the grocery store?  Brother, I can tell you it’s like running an obstacle course surrounded by monkeys.  If you do not have your energy reserves up, don’t even try it, you won’t make it.  Enervating!

All this culminates in returning home to cook dinner, clean the dishes, bathe the children, put the kids to bed, lay out clothes, check email, pack lunches, brush teeth, put the kids back to bed, and then fall into bed, collapsing into a heap of pajamas and exhaustion.  Aaarrrgghh!

I live a very, very busy life, is what I’m saying.  So forgive me if I don’t have the time to write a big post about how important Dave’s kidney is to me, because I simply can’t.  And don’t try to guilt me into feeling bad that I’m not properly honoring Dave’s gift, because seriously, it’s his own damn fault I don’t have this time.


After all, without his kidney I couldn’t do any of this shit.

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