Lord of the (Wedding) Rings

Last week was my latest tri-monthly visit to Princess Margaret Hospital for a post-treatment checkup. Maria the volunteer and fellow oral cancer survivor was once again on duty so we caught up and compared notes on living with dry mouth. Then it was on to see Dr. O’Sullivan. All was well and so he sent me upstairs for a routine chest x-ray and that was that. My next checkup will be in three months.

At my weigh-in I checked out my weight history in my chart. For those keeping score, I am now more than halfway back to my pre-treatment weight. All told, I lost 20 kg (44 lbs.) by having part of my tongue removed, getting irradiated, and eating through a tube for several weeks. A guaranteed weight-loss program, but one that makes heavy duty exercise look awfully appealing.

Anyway, although I’m well on the road to regaining my girth, my fingers remain stubbornly svelte. Slim digits pose a problem for keeping the ol’ wedding ring in place, a problem exacerbated by the cold, dry winter’s effect on the skin. After a very brief scare last winter when I thought I’d lost my ring (it fell off in my glove), I began wearing it on my middle finger, where it fits perfectly. I’d hoped by this winter it would be ready to return to the ring finger, but no dice. I’m hesitant to get it resized lest my finger finally fattens up again. Jeanette insists she’s fine with this strategy, but I still feel weird about wearing this symbol of our love on a finger that traditionally sends another message entirely. You’d think I’d be used to it – after all, the ring on the same finger of my right hand is the actual ring we used at the wedding because the real deal was being, yes, resized. Ah well. I supposed there are worse problems one can have involving rings.

In other news, I have now completed four of my six weeks at Clinton Street Public School and am continuing to have a great time. Today I was “in charge” of the class for the full day. I use quotes because I still greatly relied upon and appreciated the support of the teacher and the E.A. Today we finished up our taste portion of the five senses unit. We graphed the results of students’ likes or dislikes for samples of sweet, sour, and salty foods. No surprise, strawberries and pretzels were met with universal acclaim. What was unexpected was that all the students voted for “like” after biting into pieces of lemon. Most kids even went back for more! Only the teacher and I found it too sour to endorse.

Hmm. Maybe I have more in common with Gollum than I thought. In any case, I am happy to report that this has been my only sour experience with these great kids. I’ll miss them when I move on to my grade 5/6 placement in three weeks’ time. Stay tuned!

Following in My Mother’s Footsteps

My mom was delighted when I announced my plans to go into teaching. Being a retired teacher herself, she seemed thrilled by the idea that I would be following in her pedagogical footsteps. Just how closely I’d be retracing those steps has come as a surprise to us both.

This past week I began my third practicum placement. This time around, I’m at Clinton Street Junior Public School — the same school where Mom completed her first practicum back in 1960! Actually, it turns out that it’s the same entity but not the same building. The original structure, built in 1888, was demolished in 1966 and then the current school was built on the same site (a few blocks southwest of Honest Ed’s).

While Mom was placed in a grade 1 class, I am student teaching in a special education class of eight developmentally delayed students. Interestingly enough, Mom went on to be a teacher of the deaf and of special needs students, although much younger children than the eight-year-olds in my class.

My own experience with special needs students is minimal. I spent a few weeks during my time teaching in Japan working with two developmentally delayed grade 7 students, but otherwise I’ve had no other formal experience or training. Fortunately, my host teacher at Clinton is a 20-year veteran who has worked with her current teaching assistant for more than ten of those years. They’re both fantastic with the students and their classroom routines and materials are exceptionally well-organized. Meanwhile, the students themselves, who are mostly autistic or children with Down syndrome, are quite high-functioning and cheerful. As such, it has been a very gentle introduction to special education for me. This week I’ll begin teaching a five-week unit on the five senses. Not surprisingly, the teacher already has some material in her impressive stores and I’m further mining Mom’s experience for more ideas, so I’ll have no shortage of resources with which to work.

Although there are plenty of differences between Mom’s experiences and my own, I nevertheless feel a shiver of excitement to be covering a lot of similar ground. It’s almost fulfilling enough for me to contemplate also trying my hand at accounting to further connect with Dad … almost, but not quite — sorry, Dad!