Sympathy Fatigue
Yesterday was my first day back at work since Patrick was diagnosed with a rare, serious kidney disease. Being a teacher at his school, I had emailed his teachers over the weekend to explain to them the disease, its symptoms, and the complications that they might expect to see from him in the classroom on account of his heinous treatment regimen.
It's a small school. Only about 2,000 kids in grades K-12 and all in one building. Everyone knows everyone. There are no secrets, and I knew this. I knew that everyone would know by 8:01 am. (School begins at 7:45). I wasn't prepared for the overwhelming support of my friends and colleagues. I barely had my shit together as it was, and their kindness was hard to handle.
I am normally not very emotional, at least on the surface. I like to pretend that I have control over things, when often I do not. In truth, I am oftentimes just one breath away from a complete, total, histrionic break-down. Yesterday, I got crankier and crankier as the day went on, and felt like a horrible bitch for not wanting to answer (for the one millionth time) the really-if-you-think-about-it ASSININE question, "How are you doing?"
I know people care, I know people want to help, I know they aren't trying to annoy me, but seriously?
"How are you doing?" ???? WTF
Gee, let me see...
My oldest son, my firstborn, my precious, autistic, already plagued with one syndrome, child just got diagnosed with a serious kidney disease. He has only a 50% chance of having the "good type" of the horrible disease. He might potentially need dialysis, and (according to research I've been doing) eventually a TRANSPLANT.
"I'm great. How are you?"
To be fair, I also have had four offers of kidneys.
Four.
Four.
Seriously?
My friends rock.
But they ask stupid questions.
Labels: Nephrotic Syndrome, rants