Monday, December 1, 2008

Nariva Aftermath AKA National Boards

I was itchy when I got home, but assumed that that’s what being in the tropical bush for 72 hours would do to you. Then Aaron noticed some different things—one circle on my thigh that looked alarmingly like ringworm and some blistery looking things on my ankles—scabies? Chiggers? Something we’d never heard of??
Friday, November 21st, we could log on at 6 AM Seattle time to see what our National Boards scores were. For the past 15 months, I had pictured myself at home and checking in private, so I could huddle in a corner at bad news or celebrate and bask at good news, but since 6=10AM for me, no chance-- it's in the middle of my day. At 9:55, I told my kids I needed 5 minutes of I’m-a-real-person-time as opposed to I'm-a-teacher-time and I went in my office and checked. At 9:59, I clicked submit and a few seconds later: Congratulations! I got all Miss America, jumping up and down. I looked up to see my kids’ faces plastered on the window of my office trying to see what I was doing. I told them that I had passed a teacher test. Always the optimists, they said, “No way, it has to be cooler than that!” Nope. So we all walked over to Aaron's room and did a simultaneous thumbs up. On the way, I ran into the director’s wife, and told her the news.
As soon as class ended, I called Amy, my friend who had gone through it all with me, to see how she had fared. (She passed!) As we were talking, on my cell phone, the director of the school comes into my office. I assume he’d talked to his wife and he’s there to congratulate me. Odd for him, I think I’ve had one conversation with him since being here, but you know, it’s a big deal. I tell Amy I have to get off the phone and explain to him why I’m on my cell phone. “Great,” he says. “But you’re not getting a raise. So, do you have 200$ I can borrow? Your husband says you have some cash.” I must have looked confused. “I have to pay a mechanic.” Isn’t there a petty cash fund?? I did have it, that’s about 40$ US, so I gave it to him and he said, as he left, “Thanks! I’ll pay you back. Congrats.”
About an hour later, my bites got worse. I found a doctor and the receptionist told me there was no way—the doctor was supposed to leave in 20 minutes and there were two people in front of me. The lady stared at me until I asked her if she could suggest someone else, she called, got a no, called someone else, got a yes, and then started to tell me directions. I started to get a little teary at that point. Being told directions to a new place doesn’t usually work out well for me. A man sitting, watching my ankles oozing, said, “Take my appointment. I was just dropping off paperwork. I come by here every day on my way home.” Really? “Sure.” Okay. I wasn’t going to ask again. The doctor took one look at them and said, “Sandflies. You’re having an allergic reaction to them. Take this. They’ll get really bad, but after four weeks you should be fine. If not, come back. And yes, that’s ringworm. Take this.” I do know where the pharmacy is and I went straight there. So, to celebrate the honor of becoming a National Board certified teacher, Aaron helped me slather on some crème, both on my pizza legs and on my ringworm thigh, and I laid on top of our bed, trying not to juice more than necessary.
But I passed!

1 comment:

jenbaum said...

I will apologize first... but, while I am feeling sorry for you, I am also laughing my ass off... you just need to write not in your own voice, and then I wouldn't laugh! :) I can hear you, I can see Aaron slathering creme on the ring worm.... shute... it just makes me laugh.... memories are great, aren't they???? :)