Thursday, April 26, 2012


I do believe I've got bronchitis. It's probably the result of the weird weather we've had lately, and possibly my fault as well, since I allowed the temperature in my apartment to creep downward to the low 60s (mid- to high teens-- 15.6°C-17.2°C-- for you Centigraders). My breathing has a lovely rattle to it, so I'm coughing up chunks of mucus, taking cold medicine and aspirin, and spraying disinfectant all over my bed and various work stations. I had bronchitis back in 2009, when Mom was sick. To avoid infecting her, given the ravaged state of her immune system, I wore a mask around the house. No mask this time around, but I worry that the bronchitis I'm experiencing now might be a vicious remnant of what hit me three years ago, lying in wait for the right moment to enact a covert strike. Will have to study up on bronchitis and its wily ways.

My biggest worry is that my students are going to catch something from me. Here's hoping that their young constitutions are hardy enough to resist invasion by whatever I've got, because I have no plans to call in sick. When I was teaching at Smoo from 2005 to 2008, I never once called in sick; it would have been impossible, anyway: my classes began at 7:40AM, and there was usually no one in the office until 8AM. At my current job, the situation is similar: calling in sick entails a lot of rescheduling, which is an inconvenience for both the front office and the students. The supervisor also worries about the damage that perceived unreliability will do to the school's reputation; if the teachers are disappearing without warning, what happens to the students when one teacher cancels?

Upshot: I'm goin' to work.


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