Three strikes...

Failure.

I feel like it's stamped on my forehead for everyone to see.

I received some news yesterday. From a newsletter.

This is my third "hiring season" as a teacher. The first two were extremely rough. Nothing developed from either and by the time the second one was over, I was tired of the field of education. I still loved teaching but I hated the politics.

Then I got my current job. And I loved it.

Two months ago, I found out they were hiring in my field. I was told by several higher-ups to apply. I felt that it was the right thing...the right place to be...the right timing. I applied and then waited patiently for my turn to be interviewed. I was told that they would happen towards the end of the school year. I was not concerned because I felt so good about it. Others on staff assured me that I was a shoo-in, at least guaranteed an interview.

Yesterday I was in the copy room, running an errand for a teacher. As I walked by the wall, I glanced at the weekly newletter written by the administration. One line stood out...screaming at me. It stated: We are done hiring and placements will be announced this week for the next school year.

I was frozen.

I could see my future...my dream...my career crumbling and blowing away all in a few seconds.

Needless to say, I am crushed.

I hurt.

This is the third year this has happened to me. The constant rejection chisles away at my confidence.

I feel deflated.

People will tell me "not to give up" and "there's gotta be something out there".

I know.

But that doesn't lessen the hurt. The sense of failure. When I look at my graduating class, they all either have teaching jobs or a spouse who supports them while they pursue other interests.

Then there's me.

What am I doing wrong? Why is it everytime I feel so sure, so confident, that THIS is going to be the school, THIS is going to be the job, I end up flat on my back, having no idea what just slammed into me and knocked me down.

I think my compass is broken. I have no idea where I am supposed to be or what I'm supposed to be doing.

Goodbye...So long...Farewell (to my tonsils)

Well, it's only been...4 months ish since I've written.

I blame this on the fact that one of my new year's resolutions was to write in my journal daily, which I have more or less done.

Which means I forget to post on here...for the millions that follow me...

*awkward silence*

So...

To make up for my lack of communication, I shall do several posts to catch y'all up to what's been happening to me so far this year. And we shall start with my tonsils.

Oh my tonsils...little buggers.

They have bothered me for years, YEARS! And this year, I finally had it...I was done with them. After having a sore throat for two months straight (I'm not exaggerating), I went to the Dr. and begged him to tell me what to do to be worthy of getting them out. He handed me a sheet of ENTs in the area.

*Nerd Moment*: So when the doctor said I had to go see an ENT, my first thought was "Ooo! I get to go see walking tree!" Thank you for joining me for this nerd moment.*

The appointment was made, I went, and the first thing the doctor said when he saw my tonsils was "Yes, those are worthy." Woot!

On April 3rd, I had my tonsils removed. The following is something I typed up on my computer that night to capture it for humanity. Try not to laugh too hard.

So the parts I was most nervous about was the IV and then actually going under. Needles freak me out. It doesn’t matter how old I get, they still freak me out.

            So after we arrived and got checked in, it took about 20 minutes for them to call me back. My nurse was super nice and she took my basic info down and then handed me a plastic cup. I can now say that I’ve passed my first pregnancy test…and shocker, I’m not pregnant. Then they took me back and I got changed into one of those oh-so-modest hospital gowns. My nurse then took my vitals and declared that I was nervous…my blood pressure was really high. She said that it would likely go right back down once I was asleep and so she wasn’t worried.  

            The IV proved to be a challenge…I have my father’s veins that like to hide the moment someone mentions the word “needle”. My nurse was fast though and told me that instead of pricking me five times in the hand they were just going to put it in the crease of my arm and get it over with one try. Then she went and got mom. We waited for a few minutes, and then nurse came back and gave me a shot that had steroids that would help with inflammation. Then I finally met Dr. Ence (he was really nice). Then the anesthesiologist (Kevin) showed up, introduced himself and had me sign the consent form to be put asleep. I told him that he was probably my favorite person in the building and he heartily agreed. Then mom had to leave and my OR nurse and Kevin wheeled me into the OR. On the way in, for whatever reason, they were talking about the gruesome things they had seen in the ER...it was really comforting. After I had scooted over to the table, Kevin said, “Alright, let’s make you sleep” and he put something into my IV. I watched the nurses around me for maybe 5 seconds when I looked up at the ceiling and it suddenly rotated halfway around the room. I remember saying “whoa” and the nurse said “you are feeling that, huh?” I managed to say “yes” and then I was out.

            I had a dream while I was out that I was at camp and there was a problem that I had to take care of. Next thing I know, someone was shaking me and telling me to wake up. I tried to get up, thinking it was the problem that I had to go take care of at camp. Then I heard the post-op nurse tell me “Kathryn, you just got out of surgery.” I laid back down and that was when the pain hit. I hadn’t even opened my eyes but I was aware of tears streaming down my cheeks and my legs were shaking. The nurse wiped the tears away and asked if I was ok. I kept apologizing for crying. I was aware of a beeping and apparently I had dislodged the heart monitor on my finger. The nurse asked me to hold still while she fixed it. I think I told her I wasn’t dying. She asked me to take three sips of water, which felt really good. I managed to say that my ears really hurt and she asked if I wanted a morphine shot and if I wanted another blanket. I nodded for both and she went to get them. I started crying again (I couldn’t help it) and she handed me two tissues to wipe them away. She then told me that she was going to go get me a Popsicle. I still was not fully awake and I could feel myself of the verge of hysteria and I was shivering badly from the anesthesia. So to calm down, I recited history facts to myself.

What years were the Civil War fought? 1861-1865.

Who was the president? Abraham Lincoln.

Who was the general that was hired twice? McClellan.

Who was the best general for the north? Grant.

By this time, I was coherent and in control. The Nurse gave me my Popsicle and she went and got mom and when mom came back the Nurse said that I needed to start taking pain medication. She asked if I wanted pudding or applesauce to help it go down. I asked her what she would want and she recommended the applesauce. I swallowed my medicine and ate the applesauce. Then they just needed to wait a while to make sure I didn’t have any negative side effects. Mom said that my blood pressure was really low when she first came in, but since no one was panicking my guess it was because I was very relaxed. Then it was time to leave. Mom tried to help me get dressed but I managed to do it all by myself. Then the nurse wheeled me out to the waiting car and I came home.

            I was able to walk by myself and as I was going downstairs, mom told me to hang onto the railing. Ben was watching and so I raised my hands above my head and waved them around. Ben laughed and mom chuckled and called me a smart alec.

It is painful but I am certain that I will make a full recovery.

Oh…and I love my mashed potatoes and gravy…yum yum yummy. 

Recovery was pretty smooth. I feel like I really only had one super bad day. The worst pain was the "referred pain" that occurs in the ears. Mine have always been pretty sensitive. 

It has been about two weeks now, and I am feeling good. My throat is still healing and it hurts to hiccup or laugh. Either way, I am very grateful that I will no longer have to deal with tonsils, strep, and being sick all the time. 

...at least until the bill comes. 

Humbled

Wow.

This last month has been crazy.

Camp ended August 11th. My wittle brover got married the week after that. I started substitute teaching the week after that, which I did not want to do. Substitute teaching had been a difficult job for me and I was convinced that I was done with it. So I frantically started searching for another job.

Well, I got one.

I was excited. It was something new, different, it was at a law firm and I was so excited because I had always wanted to work at a law firm.

And I ended up hating it.

By the end of the first week I felt like I was going to have a nervous breakdown. It was horrible. The job involved calling people and getting very personal information and then informing the "client" if we could help them or not. Most these people had absolutely nothing. I felt like a crook.

And so the Tuesday after I started working, I quit.

Substitute teaching had never looked so good. I leaped back into subbing and I was so happy to be back doing something that I knew how to do and something that I enjoyed. It just took one week at this other job to help me remember why I am a teacher and that I do love it.

But I was confused, because I had received the distinct impression that I was supposed to go work at the law firm. But once I started working, I felt like I wasn't supposed to be there. When I started subbing again, I felt like it was temporary. And so I continued to look for more permanent jobs. Three weeks ago, I applied for a handful of teaching positions hoping I would at least get an interview. Nada.

And I felt troubled. Angry. Upset. Disappointed. Like a failure.

I really was loving subbing, but I felt like I wasn't living up to my full potential. And so I prayed, read my scriptures, read conference talks, and was reminded again and again and again that the Lord has His own timetable and that trusting in Him is the best thing to do. I had to have faith in that. So my prayers began to change. Rather than praying to find a job or some satisfaction in life, instead it went to "please help me to have more faith in Thee" and "help me to remember to be patient." It was hard, but I resolved to do better and to trust in Heavenly Father.

This last Thursday, I was sitting at the computer looking for subbing jobs and my phone rang (ok vibrated). It was an unknown number and so I wasn't going to answer it. But then I thought, I need to and so I did. It was the director of the special ed department at a local school asking if I was interested in a job as an aide. I wasn't really interested at first, because aides usually don't get paid very well (bottom of the totem pole if you know what I mean) and then she mentioned the pay. Now, at the risk of sounding greedy, it was an amazing pay offer. Much higher than any job I have ever had before. Once I realized that this was a job that could help me meet all my financial needs, I realized that this might be a really great opportunity.

I went the next day to an interview. Five minutes later, I had the job. And I really enjoyed it.

My new boss had discovered me when she was looking through teaching applications people had sent to the school. One of them was mine.

As I drove home from work yesterday, satisfied with the days work and really looking forward to the school year now, it hit me how everything that had happened in the last month to have all this happen. And the hindsight was amazing. It was like watching puzzle pieces fall into place, each leading me to where this job was. If I had never gotten hired at the law firm, I would not have realized how much I loved teaching and that I still wanted to do that. If I had never quit the law firm, I never would have sent my application to this school and I never would have had the job offered to me.

The lesson I learned is that even when it feels like there is nothing there, I can't afford to forget that there is someone with a higher perspective, someone who can see exactly what our lives can become. It reminded me of a favorite quote from a movie:

"I don't believe in God."
"It doesn't matter. He believes in you."

I love it because it's not that I stop believing in God, but sometimes I feel like I've been forgotten or that I'm not important enough. But He always knows where I am and what I need. This whole experience showed me that He cares and that He will never forget me.

And that is always nice to know.