In preparing to teach my first class after the Whipple surgery, I admit to being more nervous than usual.
Much more nervous. Why? I had missed an entire semester, except for the initial week. I wondered if I still had “IT.” I always had strong teaching ratings from my students and often had the first class in my department that filled up. But I worried that I had lost my mojo. I also realized that I was extremely thin and looked sickly. In addition, I would have to sit at the podium most of the time to conserve my energy. I was used to walking around and interacting with the students.
Finally, I didn’t think I would appear as animated as before.
My initial classes went fine. Asnoted earlier, I soon thereafter had kyphoplasty (a fancy term for cement being placed into my back). Even though my back pain was greatly lessened from the procedure, I became even more nervous about my subsequent days of teaching, just a short time following the kyphoplasty. I was especially anxious on Mondays as I was teaching a 2- hour-and-20-minute graduate class shortly after my 85- minute undergraduate class concluded. I worried about my stamina.
Ultimately, everything went great during the fall 2015 semester. Yes, I had to sit more during both classes. And by the end of the graduate class at nearly 8:30 PM, I was exhausted. Nonetheless, as I should have predicted from the decades of teaching, adrenaline is a wonderful thing. It lets you undertake what you might think is impossible. Furthermore, when you are teaching, you really can only focus on the job in front of you. If you get distracted, the students will know this instantly. Focus is good—for me anyway.
Since returning to work meant extended time out of the comforting confines of home, I needed a routine for the days I taught. In particular, I had to be quite vigilant about my blood sugar level. As I was still rather new to widely varying levels, I had to be prepared for any likelihood.
I never left the house without my trusty blood sugar meter and test strips. I had insulin to take with my lunch. I had juice boxes and a glucose gel to take if my sugar got too low. I brought healthy food for lunch. And I had a mini-bag of M&M’s to consume in class if I felt a low sugar level coming on.
There were a couple of times that my blood sugar level became too low right after eating in my office at Hofstra. That was a simple adjustment. The hard part was trying to figure what my blood sugar would/should be during class. In my case, it seems that the adrenaline rush while teaching would mean a possible big drop in my blood sugar level. From this, I learned that I needed to go into class with a somewhat elevated level, much like I would do before beginning to exercise.
Because of my variable blood sugar, I realized that I would need a way to find out my blood sugar level during class, if I felt a low coming on. How do you do that in a classroom full of students? Answer: In my classrooms, there are teaching podiums. They have a front façade that rises abovethe keyboard I used to access slides and videos. By keeping the meter flat on the podium, I found that I could take my sugar level without anyone seeing me do so. If I saw a low number, I immediately starting chewing my M&M’s and drinking from a juice box. This worked every time. Thankfully!!! After a while, my strategy became second nature, and I didn’t give it a second thought. Another reason why I am such a very lucky man.
I was also able to quite easily integrate back into my department. My colleagues were welcoming and respectful. We chatted a lot, and I was always open about my illness. I think some people were surprised to see me back at work. But there I was—ready, willing, and able.
Gradually over the fall semester, I became much stronger and more aware of the new routines for the days I taught. Although I still sat a lot while teaching, I could be more animated and walk around some during class. One thing that did not change during my first semester back was that I was very tired by the end of my evening graduate class. Getting to my car took a while. And it was a special chore to stay alert while driving home.
A decision I made, that continued until my full-time retirement in 2019, was to reduce the level of my university, school, and department service activities. Previously, I led or was a key member of a number of committees and initiatives that entailed considerable time on campus. That was too much; and I knew it.
As Clint Eastwood said in his Magnum Force movie: “A man’s got to know his limitations.” I have found that to be a valuable life lesion. And it affects many of the questionable activities that I now avoid. For example, I have bad (arthritic) knees. This means that I cannot play tennis, jog, or even use a treadmill. If I try, I feel my pain immediately. Thus, after a couple of stupid attempts at these activities—all of which I loved, I realized my limitations and chose to avoid them. HOWEVER, my limitations do not include the exercise bike, the elliptical machine, leg lifts, light weights, and walking the track at the gym (as well as outside). When necessary, I used knee pads when walking a lot. That’s another part of my being smarter than I was in the past.
Back to Hofstra. My reduction in on-campus tasks did not mean that I lost my enthusiasm to be of service. It meant that I now did a lot more things that I could handle from my computer, such as operating a school blog, running our department’s LinkedIn group, and working on curriculum proposals for both the business school and my department. I also advised numerous students from my office at Hofstra. These activities allowed me to continue to be and to feel a valuable part of my academic community. That was vital to me, since work was so fundamental to my being.
I also was motivated to keep on writing. That involved doing research for journal articles and working on my textbooks. This was another way in which my self- esteem was lifted up. No matter how much we have accomplished over our lives, many of us still want to be appreciated by our peers. [More on this in the new chapter.]
Here are some additional observations about returning to work after a major illness.
According to Skip Richard, these are six tips:
And Richard L. Burns notes:
Step One: Reduce pampering and self-pity and take positive actions.
Step Two: Develop positive mental attitudes and actions that convey present-day philosophy and activity.
Step Three: Remember that mental “gymnastics”
will necessarily follow physical wellbeing.
Step Four: Regain normality in life as quickly as possible.
Step Five: Speak, read out loud, enunciate, stop slurring and doing the easy, but sloppy ways.
Step Six: Learn new things.
Step Seven: Listen to and follow medical advice.
Step Eight: This is the simplest. It’s reading and learning about medical advances, life today, triumphs of man against adversity, and your triumphs to come. Learning aboutactivitiesthat you might do. The avocations and hobbies that might allow you to be better, do better, achieve better. 16
Live Life Every Day!
And Set Reachable Goals! 