For Better Or for Worse - Back to Full Time work!

Having a full-time job is a bit like being in a serious relationship. It takes up all your time, it permanently occupies your mind and it can bring you amazing highs and horrible lows.  It can be very stressful.  It makes you leave the pub early.  Your colleagues became the family you've married into.  You spend more time in your marital house - your place of work - than your real house.  And, especially for teachers, you're expected to give everything for it.  In the end you're married to your job; til death do you part.

It's all a bit scary really.  Especially if, like me, you've had over a year to either do what you like or work very flexibly.  Obviously I was ill for a long time.  Up until February 2012 or perhaps later, I felt so unwell that the time was never that enjoyable.  I kept myself occupied and I managed but inside I often felt off-key; as if I was in the twilight zone.  (This feeling still ebbs back every so often but I know one day it will vanish.) It has only been recently that I've suddenly stopped and thought, 'I'm enjoying myself' fully and completely, without any hidden edge.  It is accompanied with a burst of pleasure and a strong sense of freedom; a winning combination.

So it's going to be hard to let go of that feeling when I'm back to the ball and chain from Monday.  Life is going to be given back to my career, one of my most serious relationships.  I'm back to a full-time post, for a whole school year! On Monday!  I am equally terrified and excited.  It feels like coming out of University and getting my first job again, except there are certain expectations there already.  These come not only from the post I occupy but also from myself.

I have high standards.   I can be a control freak.  These can be positive attributes in a teaching role as it means I prefer very good behaviour in my class and am very organised.  It also means I can beat myself up if I fall short and get very stressed when I discover I can't work all evening, keep the house clean, do the washing, go shopping and sleep.  I have to continuously negotiate with myself.

My main concerns are confidence based.  What if I can't manage anymore?  What if the expected workload is simply too high?  What if I get really tired?  (I love sleep.  One of the things I am most worried about is getting up at 6am everyday instead of 7.30-8am.  Hideous!)  What if I don't enjoy it anymore?  What if it's too stressful and the reminder of what happened gets in the way?

In a nutshell, it's the fear of failure that rings in my ears.

I have to remember that once I walk through those 70's swing doors, these worries will probably dissipate and be lost in the chatter of schoolchildren.

Because that's what is important to remember.

I've done it before.  I loved it.  I was good at it.  It might take me a little time to get up to speed (we have several new school structures, a new Head of English and 2 new GSCEs for me to get to grips with) but I have done it before, from scratch.  I could do it then and I will be able to do it again.  I must try to take it in my stride and enjoy it.

What have I learnt a-midst the horror and suffering of this past year?

LIFE IS TOO SHORT.  JUST DO IT.  IF IT DOESN'T WORK OUT...HAVE A GLASS OF WINE, WRITE AN ANGRY BLOG POST, THEN DO SOMETHING ELSE INSTEAD!

Bruises, blisters and burns - Laser Surgery.

Yesterday I had laser surgery for the first time.  My main problem with it was the 'no drinking part.'  No drinking 4 days before the procedure and 2 weeks afterwards.  A dry bank-holiday...does such a thing exist?!  (For once I'm not talking about the weather!)

After I'd got over the shock of being a designated driver, I turned to the real concerns of laser surgery; bruises, blisters and burns.  Both to my credit and my detriment, I like to know what procedures involve.  It gives me a good idea of how things work and the results I can hope for.  It also gives me an over-blown, knees-knocking insight into, 'WHAT CAN GO WRONG.'

Have you ever read that piece of paper you get inside Paracetamol?  The flimsy, folded up small print covered in 50% instructions and 50% debilitating side-effects?   And that's just an over-the-counter remedy that people take without a care in the world.  You can only imagine what I'm like by the time I get to the hospital for my appointments.

Pulsed - dye laser treatment  is used for many skin conditions, including port-wine birthmarks, rosacea and acne-scarring.  It works by causing trauma to the scarred area and effectiveness increases when temporary bruising is caused.  From what I understand from my consultant, the blood vessels are destroyed and the cells broken down in the scarred skin.  However, the practitioner administering the treatment does not want to cause so much trauma that blisters and burns become present.  It's a fine line to walk.

The lady who treated me was very upfront about the treatment.  She said that blistering is a minimal risk.  As she administers the laser, she can see the skin changing.  This means she should be able to recognise a negative reaction in the skin; hyper-pigmentation, blistering or burning.  Hopefully I could expect the redness to ebb out of my scarring and possibly even see an improvement in the texture of the skin.  I signed my waver and off we went for a test round.

Laser has been around a while but seems a space-age thing to me!  The instrument that applies the pulse looks like one of those mini-whisks you use to froth up the milk in a coffee.  It is positioned over your skin and a ZAP! fills the air.  This is accompanied with a blinding, lightening-flash of blue-white light.  Blue lense glasses are required to protect your eyes from this Star Wars flare.

I had 2 shots of laser in 4 tiny areas, each about the diameter of a 5 pence piece.  This is to determine what results the laser will yield.  The first two areas were completely numb - I had no feeling at all.  This might be because my skin still has few or no nerve endings.  They were damaged during the burn and the graft procedure.  The two zaps further down my arm did sting and I am not sure how big an area I could cope with at a time.  The lady said she could stick to small areas and there is no rush.  There is no end to the course and I can have it for a year or more if needed.  So I guess we will take it slow!

Aloe Vera Gel was applied immediately and helped cool the zapped area down.  I was advised to apply it very regularly at home to aid healing.

Three areas went black immediately.  These are parts of the new scars from my most recent operation.  They didn't just bruise but turned deep black with a purple tinge.  It  looks similar to a large blood blister under the skin with a reddened outline.    They also swelled up quite a bit, considering how small the treated areas were.  I was a bit worried the swelling might pop into a blister but this morning they have gone down and are a bit flatter.

The worst area of scarring, the original burn scar, did nothing.  It didn't redden, blacken or swell.  It stayed the same! I imagine that means an increased pulse, or multiple 'zaps' can be used next time.  Especially as I didn't feel this one at all!

Before the treatment, in consultation, the lady said she has really good results with laser and hopefully we will see a positive change even in the little parts she has done.  I'm going back on October 12th to have another session.  Although this time the treatment was manageable both pain-wise and post-treatment-wise, I think having a larger area done at once could hurt.  It also might be quite shocking afterwards.  Having a few blood-blisters is one thing but having a large area of black skin might be hard to contend with.

Still, I am pleased that I've had the laser done.  Despite all the worry it was one of the less traumatic things I've had done and was far easier to cope with than the slicing pain of steroid injections.  I'm looking forward to the results...let's hope there's some improvement!

A previous post on laser - HERE 

The pursuit of holidayness - 50 shades of SPF and Flambe is not my friend!

As the plane landed on UK soil I felt an intense mixture of relief and pride.  I'd done it!  I'd set myself the challenge of going on holiday and I had succeeded.  In one year, I had completed one of my goals.

Challenge truly is the word to use.  Taking yourself from your comfort zone and experiencing a new country is daunting after a life-changing trauma.  I used to think nothing of sitting at close range to Greek Zorba dancing with flaming tables, snorkeling with sea-life or laying out in the searing sun.  Now everything feels like it could be a danger.  I am far more cautious nowadays.

This hyper-vigilance is something that had quietened down over the year and sat quietly in the background most of the time.  Yet in Turkey it reared it's irritating head once again, making it difficult to relax.  When you go on your first post-accident holiday, do expect this.  You are in a strange country with unfamiliar surroundings and you may be crazily observant and slightly illogical!

Before I list some of the things I found difficult, I must sing Turkey's praises.  We stayed near Side, a beautiful harbour town in Antalya.  The weather wavered between scorchers of 34 - 44 degrees Celsius and the vivid blue skies only emphasised the lush green of the country.  I was surprised - I expected Turkey to be reveal acres of parched, browned soil but instead it was lush; spilling over with greenery.  In fact, as the warm dusk fell, I looked out my coach window I could have been looking on English meadows complete with pylons!

We saw sea-turtles and dolphins, drank mojitos, bartered and went para-sailing.  Despite feeling on edge a lot of the time I must stress that I wouldn't have wanted to miss out on the experience.

Fifty shades of SPF

The holiday read of the year it seems...and the advice of the year!  I managed to cope in the heat and sunlight with great preparation.  I never went out in the sun without my 50 SPF UV rash vest on.  On a boat trip I wore it the entire time and I couldn't have been without it.  In the sea and the pool I strutted around like it was a fashion item.  It was hot, sticky and uncomfortable.  BUT I didn't catch a single ray through it's 50 SPF weave and the 50 SPF I'd slathered on underneath.  It made me feel safer.

I was a patchwork of suncream!  I had thick, gloopy sunblock on my scars, even under my rash vest and on my donor site.

My face fared slightly better; it was treated to a better brand of 50 SPF suncream.  I made sure I also did my lips and ears, as I'd burned these in the accident.

The rest of me was covered in 30 SPF, regularly.  It was less thick and white than the 50!

Then...to top it all off...I sat in the shade.  We were lucky because our beach had a slight breeze and miles of canopies so I could lay in relative comfort.  Even through the 50 shades of SPF I developed a faint golden glow on legs and lower arms.  And despite these lengthy precautions, my face pigmented slightly, as did my lower arm.  It goes to show you can't be too careful.

Fakir shows, fire-eaters and flambe!

One of the most difficult things to contend with during the holiday was the Turkish love of fire.  I encountered flames on at least 5 occasions. These were not small flames, but flambes and fire-eating fuelled by petrol canisters.

Terrifying.

I had a horrible experience in the first week.  We booked the Cuban Restaurant at the hotel and we had just finished our soup starters when the maitre'd wheeled out a polished chrome trolley with a little gas ring on it, a single saucepan and a substantial glass of brandy.

I'm not sure if I've ever seen a flambe before and I was not prepared.  He stood at the table next to us and threw the alcohol in the pan.  WUMPH!!!  A huge explosion of flame roared up, filling my vision.  The orange and blue flames licked the ceiling.  Then it was gone.  I felt a roil of panic tsunami over me and the tears sprang to my eyes at such speed, I had no control.  I got up, left the restaurant immediately and could not return.

I don't normally have such a strong reaction to flames - if you're talking candles!  Yet the flambe and the fire-eaters I ran away from (twice) are a completely different fire-game.  They have an accelerent involved and an explosion is caused, similar in form to the one which harmed me last year.  This is why my reaction is so strong.

Other things you might encounter are sparklers, bonfires and flaming hoops!!!

Can you smell gas???

A more illogical pet hate of mine is the smell of gas or the appearance of gas canisters.  They make me feel stressed and on guard.  Unfortunately there were canisters everywhere.  Staff wheeled them from area to area and they were often very obviously placed.  Some shops even had drums pinioned to steel struts above their roofs, providing their abode with gas.  Occasionally a whiff of gas floated towards you, enough to alert my internal panic alarm.

I was also a bit concerned about the music on the speed-boat and the pirate boat.  Electrical wires snaked threateningly out of the speakers and systems, winding their insidious way across damp decks and basking in the baking sun.  Water and electric....???  Hmmmm.  I tried turn my mind away from these constant observations and concentrate on the inspiring lyrics of J-Lo and Casper being pumped out instead.

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Mostly I knew my safety concerns were groundless but knowing this doesn't make you feel much better about it!  The one thing that did make me feel better was SLEEP!!!  It sounds silly but when I was over-tired I became paranoid about things like the above.  Getting over-tired is pretty impossible to avoid when travelling but on holiday you must get enough sleep (and not drink too much) otherwise you will be as jumpy as a kangaroo.  Once I'd had a good night's kip my concern over gas canisters seemed laughable and the previous night's fire antics seemed a distant nightmare....almost.

And they all holidayed happily ever after.

It was wonderful to be able to do what the old me could do.  This was enough in itself to boost my confidence and of course...book the next holiday!  I'll dust off my vests, dig out the sun-cream and travel the world.  (Ok....the Canary Islands.)   Bring it on!