The life of a sixth grader can change in a FLASH

That time I was needed…

So I love my job. I feel valued and happy and loved and all that good stuff; but on Friday, I went from loving my job to hopelessly devoted and obsessive teenage loving my job.

My Fridays are pretty hardcore. I teach all morning with no break. I love it, but it’s intense and I have little time to jet from one class to another. After teaching all morning, I packed up my stuff, cleaned up the classroom, and NASCAR marched back to my office (I always speed walk with a purpose. People at work say I always look like I’m on my way somewhere important. Yes, yes I am! Aka, I don’t walk slow. Ever. I’m always on a mission.)

Anyway, I was on my way to my office when I heard my name being called by a student. I turned around and was met with a very anxious sixth grader who grabbed my hand and said, “Mrs. Sarah! I need you! I’m on my period and I’m not prepared and I don’t know what to do! Help me.” I metaphorically tightened my SuperTeacher cape and told the student (let’s call her S) to come with me to my office. At this point, the second bell rang and S looked like she was about to cry. She said she had to go to class because her teacher would be angry she was late, but she couldn’t because she felt uncomfortable and she didn’t know what to do.

I told S to calm down and that I would talk to her teacher. I asked if she had a pad and she looked confused. Then I asked her in Chinese, and she got even more anxious and shook her head, saying she was unprepared. I told her no problem and to come with me. Thank goodness I had supplies! As a woman, I am always prepared for a situation like this, especially working in a middle school with girls who will inevitably need supplies that they don’t have because they cannot anticipate puberty…

Anyway, she came and lingered outside my office while I grabbed a pad from my desk. I then walked her to the bathroom and came in with her. I showed her the pad and started to explain what she could do. She was really nervous and said “but what if…” to which I answered her questions (no need to go into detail. The main point is, I helped her and calmed her down before leaving).

“So take this and please come to me if you need anything else. You’ll be fine! Remember what I said in FLASH? This happens to every girl, so you are not alone. Get cleaned up and I’ll wait for you outside.”

“Mrs. Sarah?”

“Yes, S?”

“I’m scared…”

My Mother Hen began clucking like crazy at this point and I was like, holy shit, this is such a beautiful feeling, I want a child right now, and then approximately 46 seconds later, I snapped out of it…

“I know you are.” I smiled and gently touched her shoulder in a proud mama kind of way, “You’ll be okay. Do you want me to wait here for you?” Cue LifeTime movie music

She shook her head, so I took my cue and left. I walked briskly to her classroom where the geography teacher was setting up her lesson. Luckily, I know the geography teacher, so she wasn’t super pissed when I interrupted the class. I walked up to her and whispered, “Hey! Sorry to interrupt, but S is in the bathroom. She’s on her period and she needed my help. She will be late and I told her I would tell you. Please don’t be angry with her.” The teacher smiled and nodded. We then shared a brief moment of ‘I’m a woman who has had approximately 600 periods and I totally remember the first one and I get you girl. Pussies unite!’

I went back to my office, put my hand over my heart, and felt like I was a 34 year old mama. It was a cool feeling. I felt so needed! “My FLASH class worked,” I said out loud in my office. A few of my coworkers smiled at me and said it was an important class. I felt really, really good.

For the rest of the day, I thought about S. I didn’t want to like, ask her “Are you okay?” in the middle of the hall or anything. I didn’t want to draw attention because omg, grade 6 kids spread information like roaches spread their offspring. It’s crazy how anything said or thought in the hallway is spread like wildfire. Something can happen in my class and before it ends, Bernard will know about it because a grade 6 kid will run to his office and be like, “Mr. Bernard! Mrs. Sarah danced to Taylor Swift today!! Do you like Taylor Swift? We’re reading a book in class…” and then Bernard will smile and nod and be extremely sweet and listen to the life of any grade 6 student who comes to him desperately wanting someone to listen to his or her redundant, yet adorable, stories.

So I’m in my office marking papers when there’s a knock at the door. I don’t look up because there are like 8 people in my office and students come in for different teachers all the time. And then there’s a little sound, “Uh, Mrs. Sarah?” I look up and it’s S. She looks a little pale but is definitely calmer than before.

“I feel really uncomfortable.”

“That’s normal. Drink lots of water. How’s your head? Does it hurt?”

I continue to tell her that the first period is uncomfortable because her body hasn’t felt it before and I gave her some tips and made sure she didn’t have PE class that day so she could lay low. I then told her to come to me whenever she wanted and ask me anything. To be honest, I was pleasantly surprised that she was so open with me in my office with 7 other people around to hear her. She was pretty explicit about her period… but that’s good!!! She was scared and she wanted answers. Luckily, she came to SuperSexEdTeacherSarah. This was my time to shine!!! (My grammar has been rusty lately and I’ve been a little self-conscious about my level of English writing skills because I’ve been living in an ESL environment for so long and I watch a lot of crap reality TV, so I feel like I’m losing my jam…. However, when it comes to first period knowledge, I feel pretty damn confident, so I was rocking this…).

I was feeling super momish at this point; but then I realized, wait! I’m NOT her mom! I then quickly marched over to her homeroom teacher’s office and asked if I could have a word with her in private. I explained that S got her first period today and she might be a little distracted in homeroom. I then asked if she could call S’s mom and let her know so that she could be prepared to talk to S and maybe get necessary supplies so S could be comfortable.

The homeroom teacher had a huge smile on her face the whole time. She shook my hand and nodded, telling me I was a great teacher and I had “so much care for the students.” I felt like, at this point, my FLASH job for the day was done. I had helped the student directly and talked to the necessary teachers to make sure S was taken care of. In terms of cultural sensitivity, I made sure her mom was called, and I didn’t give S any specific advice because it is not my place. I gave her very general, medical advice and let her know that I was there. And always would be. J

Right before I left for a Friday meeting, I saw S in the hallway and nodded her way. She gave me a ‘thumbs up’ and I winked at her. Mission accomplished. If I helped her even marginally with one of the scariest things a prepubescent girl has to go through, well then I feel like I succeeded in my job that day.

I didn’t finish marking that day nor did I do everything on my “To Do” list; but when life happens, I can’t help but put aside everything that can wait and attend to the here and now. This is what makes life interesting at the end of the day.

So like I said, I love my job… but on Friday specifically, I felt needed. I can’t help but have a warm and fuzzy feeling when a student comes to me for advice on something that isn’t academic. I love being the FLASH teacher!!! Who’s next? If on Monday a boy comes to me telling me about his wet dream, as much as that would be TMI to the max, I think it’s safe to say that my FLASH class was ultimately hardcore successful!!!

….I do hope I don’t hear about any tween boy’s dream though. Because creepy.

Until next time,

Sarah the maternal Wun

It all happened in a FLASH! (Family Life and Sexual Health in China)

So I've been absolutely awful at updating this blog for a couple of reasons. #1 Bernard and I got a new job and it's literally wolfing down all our time, #2 I'm extremely active in and outside of work so I'm always out and about or DAMN exhausted and therefore watching a show/reading and on my way to bed.

Also, everything that happens is blog worthy, but this is the most blog worthy thing ever, so I figured what better to update the ol' blog than my launching a sex ed workshop for grade 6 at my new school!

It all started at the beginning of October just after the Moon festival holiday. I overheard a grade 10 girl in the bathroom talking about a pregnancy test and I immediately wondered what kind of sex ed students get in Shanghai...

I took it upon myself to email the principal with my requirements (Master of Sexual Health and the future Sex with Sue) and inquired about sex ed on campus and if I could have the chance to work with whoever was in charge. And if no one was in charge, could I take this on? She emailed me back a few hours later and said she would speak with the Dean of students and get back to me.

I immediately thought, okay now I'll probably have to wait for like 6 months and/or this won't happen, but at least I put it out there. Nope.

The next day a woman came into my office and introduced herself as the Dean of students. She said she would LOVE for me to teach adolescence and puberty to the grade 6 classes. I was stunned. I couldn't believe it was that easy! Did I just get exactly what I asked for????!?!?!!

She told me I would meet with the psychology teacher that day and brainstorm ideas for an adolescence workshop that apparently the Chinese teachers do every year. I was excited to see what they had in place.

The next day, I met up with my what would be co-teacher and she showed me what she had in place. A "get to know you" activity, a Q&A about adolescence that she kept calling a competition because that's how China does things, and a body jigsaw.

I scraped the body jigsaw because the kids learned about body parts in science class. I scraped the getting to know you activity because it had been a month and a half; these kids knew each other. I kept the Q&A but inserted an alternative activity. Instead of a body jigsaw, I suggested we do a matching game. I would hand out words and definitions and the students must match them up and sit with that person. This gives the kids and opportunity to move around and take a guess at some hard definitions. I assured my co-teacher that it didn't matter if the kids didn't know the words... I just wanted them to become familiar with them and that I would explain each definition.

I created a new and improved adolescence class. I called it FLASH (Family Life and Sexual Health).

In an ideal world, I would have had plenty of time to draft up the most gorgeous and culturally appropriate sex ed class, but in reality I had like two days on top of my original classes and I had to come up with something that was less than 40 minutes and touched on EVERYthing puberty related. Oh boy...

I think I did an okay job. I had to convince my co-teacher to get rid of some of the questions that were essentially scare tactics. Very "don't have sex or you'll get pregnant and die" type things. There were lots of questions about periods and how "delicate" periods were.... which I believe is a cultural thing. I once again assured her that teaching girls that periods are natural and normal will help them prepare for something that can be really scary when you're a preteen. I told her that we had to inform these kids that all this stuff was normal and not uncomfortable.

I decided that I wanted to end the class with an anonymous question box. I would pass out paper and get students to write down ANY question about sexual health. This was their ticket to leave the class. They HAD to write a question. That was the point of the class... to answer questions. We ended up getting some candy and handing that out to students after they put the question in the box. Bribery like a boss, my friend.

THE CLASS:

Before I even taught the class, I had students coming up to me asking me about it. Their homeroom teachers informed them that I would be hosting a "teenager workshop" (?) because I had lots of education about it. Okay... Haha. I drafted up a parent letter that I wanted signed in order to alleviate shock, anger, discomfort, and any of that negative stuff around sex ed. I wanted parents to know exactly what I planned to teach. It was only fair. The students would have the option to leave class and do an independent study if their parents did not approve of the content.

25 kids. 25 signatures. *struts* THIS was the start of my giddiness and nervous excitement about the class. ALL the parents were thrilled that a foreigner wanted to teach their kids about the uncomfortable realities of growing up. AWESOME! The homeroom teachers were also really excited that I was offering to do this so they wouldn't have to!! Hahaha.

THE ACTUAL CLASS:

The day of the class was an extremely busy day for me. I was really nervous (for some reason) and I was running around like a damn chicken because I wanted it to be perfect. It wasn't perfect. First of all, we planned 4 segments in the class (1. word match; 2. Q&A quiz; 3. video; 4. question box). We scraped the video for time's sake. Correction: I scraped the video which was cheesy and arguably non-informative about realistic things.  We had to cut the Q&A quiz short because of time as well. Everything just took so much longer.

As a teacher, time management is my weakness. It's my Everest. One day, I will conquer it.

Anyway, the class was great. The kids watched me like I was an intriguing piece of art, a dinosaur, and Taylor Swift all in one. They were in awe, engaged, fascinated, and horrified at the same time! The girls cringed when I talked about periods and the boys' eyes widened when I said the word erection. It was really cute and definitely unexpected for them to understand so much of what I said. They were SO inquisitive but apprehensive.

I constantly reminded them that they could ask me anything and to not be uncomfortable. They only giggled twice when I said penis, but hey! I'm sure YOU just giggled while reading penis... no? Dick. There. I bet you did then. I certainly did. HAH! Dick.

I think the most uncomfortable part of the class was when I explained pubic hair. For some reason, THIS was horrifying. The kids didn't understand WHY pubic hair had to exist. I longed to explain it all to them in tremendous detail with my dedicated passion to the art of sex ed, but TIME! There was just no time. Instead, I made a joke about the hair on my head and monkeys... I don't even remember it, but no one laughed... except me. It was awkward, and yet awesome.

The class was still VERY Chinese in delivery (kids at their desks listening to the teacher. Nothing extreme). In an ideal situation, I'd have everyone holding modelling clay sculpting labias and penises and all that jazz, but this is probably why I'm not a sex educator full time!!! I'll stick to the English lit... I know it best. Haha.

I can't even explain the feeling I got when reading the students' questions at the end of class. It was amazing. I could practically feel them inquiring as they wrote down the questions.

50% of the questions were essentially HOW DO I DELAY THIS?!?!?! in respect to puberty. They're all really scared about it. I kept repeating this is normal. I also explained that me and the teachers went through puberty before and that calmed the kids down a lot. They love relating to me... it's cute.

There were more girl questions than boy questions but more boys than girls in the class. This was really interesting! I think it's safe to deduce that boys too want to know about periods and menstruation. And so they should!!! I was a little surprised the class wasn't split into boys / girls. I think I'd like to split the class next semester to get into more detail and possibly make the class more student-centred. I'd also like to remove the desks and maybe rock a circle of chairs next time. I am a discussion heavy teacher. For the first class though, I think our set up was nice, and necessary!

 One of the main messages in the class was about cleanliness. I tried NOT to talk too much about sexual health and more just about health health, but kids NEED to hear penis and vagina in a sex ed class, I'm just saying.

I called the class FLASH (Family Life and Sexual Health) to keep it general. Also, they could say FLASH in the hallway and others wouldn't know it's about "sex". Sex is scary for 11 year old Chinese kids... trust me.

So back to the cleanliness. I talked about pimples, which originally were called whelks in the powerpoint. I was like "the fuck is a whelk?! Is this a typo?" and my co-teacher didn't know how to explain it to me. After much googling, I discovered a whelk is essentially a pimple. OOOHHHH!!!! MAKES SENSE NOW! I changed the terminology from old English/Noah's ark ancient vocab to make it current. That was the biggest issue in the original plan.... it was ANCIENT and NOT RELATABLE AT ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!

That's where I come in. I think I did a great job keeping it current. I drew a picture of pimples on the board (pictured above. Such an artist) to help clarify the language barrier. The kids had a lot of lightbulb moments. It was extremely refreshing and awesome to see that.

At the end of the day, what I expected was to say things and have kids listen and semi-retain. What I experienced was motivation, engagement, and 27 questions out of 21 kids! Amazing!!! I couldn't be happier with the results. At the end of class, and spilling over to the next day, I heard kids talking about FLASH. This is what I wanted. Hopefully, the conversations will continue and soon my sexpertise will flood through the ENTIRE school. One can dream, right?

It's a lot of work taking on another class with my current course load, but it's SO worth it to build these relationships. All I need is for a student to trust me and then BOOM, relevant questions and life-changing badassery will ensue.

Gotta love this life!

Alright, and now to feed my never-ending hunger.

Yours truly,
Sarah the educational Wun

Bathroom Reflections

So I’m sitting in a mall bathroom in Shanghai, sweating and shaking and not having a good time; and yet, despite how intestinally awful I feel, I can’t help but feel grateful for the fact that I’m sitting on a western style toilet and there are many stalls to choose from so I don’t need to worry about someone needing my stall. I can take my time and be in as much pain as I need to be in at the moment. There’s also a toilet paper dispenser in this bathroom, and it’s full! You don’t see that often in China! I constantly have tissues in my purse for these occasions because more than half of the time, I know the bathrooms won’t be sufficiently stocked with necessities such as toilet paper or soap or toilet seats.

I hear a little girl singing as her grandma takes her to the toilet and it makes me smile. As I sit in pain and breathe through it all, I gaze around at the wooden walls that are keeping me and my suffering private, and I’m thankful. I look up and read the back of the door, “avoid the jams, please put the papers in the cask.” I wonder where the origin of the word cask comes from and who uses that term. I wonder if it's even a word or just another fabulous translation errors that I see so much here. To the right, the toilet paper holder boasts being full of quality eco-friendly tissue and there’s a picture of a kuala bear hugging a roll of toilet paper.

As I sit here I am proud of my body for being able to handle what it has been put through these past few years overseas, and I wonder if this isn’t all just something I should do without. I wonder if my IBS can’t handle being overseas and if I should just go back home where all the toilets are western and the stalls always have toilet paper and locks on the doors. Where the majority of the food is poison-free and high quality. Where I can trust meal preparation and fresh vegetables. Where I can easily access probiotics and stomach medicine.

Then I think about Monday. On Monday, I start orientation for my dream job. I will finally get to teach IB English to middle school students in China. I will have the amazing opportunity to design my own curriculum and my own assessments and have my very own students who will undoubtedly love me. I think about that and I know this is all worth it.

And then the pain subsides, even for a minute or so, and I can go distract myself with the hustle and bustle of the mall on a weekend, and a peach flavoured water that Bernard is currently seeking out for me to help ease the weakness in my tummy.

Wow, this actually worked. I was so caught up in writing down what was happening during my flare that my mind wandered away from the pain in my side and I managed to breathe through it and calm down!!! 

Yeah, I can do this. With a little patience and a little love, my body and I will be just fine.

Motivation in Motion

So Bernard and I recently left our English training jobs to move on to teaching positions at a middle school. We are extremely excited to be starting a new chapter of life here in Shanghai, and we are now in a period of much needed down time. During this 3 week lull of unemployment and very little to do, I assumed I would brush up on my Bachelor seasons and sleep for hours on end and maybe do one errand a day like a lazy, yet content, ass. 

Nope. A little backstory:

Bernard’s friend happens to be a Muay Thai boxing instructor (the best of the best in Costa Rica, apparently), so a few months back he suggested that Bernard come down to the gym for a trial class. Not wanting to leave me out, and knowing how much I LOVE challenging things – especially when it comes to a whole body workout – Bernard told me I should come and try as well.

We waltzed into the gym, me in my yoga pants and t-shirt and Bernard in his khakis and polo. A large man, who I assumed was Vin Diesel, strolled past us as if we were puppies at a heavy metal concert. It was a sight to see! Mountainous men curling weights that were eight times my weight were all over the place just flexing and shit. It was intense. This wasn’t my typical university gym where bitches in yoga pants hogged the ellipticals and stretched halfassedly.  This was an intense HARDCORE GO BIG OR GTFO kind of place. I mean this place is called Iron Dragon Crossfit for the love of Buddha. I was intrigued yet I peed a little…

We met up with Rod who gave us boxing gloves. I had never worn boxing gloves before! It was cool. They were heavy and I was tiny and weak… but I felt badass, so I ran with it.

The class was an hour long. I felt like I climbed a mountain and slaughtered several bears and ninjas after it. Omgggg…. It was SO intense I nearly died. It felt amazing. Constant punching of bags and kicking and all that boxing stuff, which I wasn’t the biggest fan of, but I did it anyway because Rod made me and I was afraid of him because he could kill a man with his fist because he’s so badass. Seriously, he does this like a million times a week. I could barely keep my head above water so to speak for a damn hour.

Bernard was owning it. The rage in his eyes when he was doing one-on-one boxing with Rod was so hardcore. He looked like Bruce Lee and Jackie Chan combined. I was instantly pregnant.

  

So my favourite part of the class was the end (haha, no not the ACTUAL end) when we did stretches. We did planks and pushups and knee lifts and situps and high kicks and ab crunches and all kinds of stuff that made my stomach scream out with pleasure as if it was having a painful, yet real, orgasm. I loooooved the stretching. My body was hurting from all the hurt I gave to a punching bag and Rod’s face (he told me to punch him in the face. I’ve never punched anyone and he laughed when I used all my force. He said it was like getting slapped by a baby. Ass.) Anyway, my body was hurting so stretching it out felt amazing.

Bernard and I wobbled home on our phantom limbs. We were both feeling fantastic yet exhausted. We came home had a light meal and slept through the night for the first time since arriving in China.

Months and months past and finally we ended work. Bernard decided that for the month of August, seeing as we were off work and had some time on our hands, he would get a membership at Rod’s gym and do Muay Thai three times a week. Hardcore.

Week one is down and he feels great. During his time boxing, I’ll admit I want to just watch my shows and sing showtunes at the top of my lungs, but I’ve taken to doing a nice hour long yoga practice. No one around to distract me and knowing I have a full hour of uninterrupted relaxed breathing and stretching? How can I NOT yoga it up?!

So Bernard does his Muay Thai and I do my yoga and together we’re feeling pretty awesome about our bodies and becoming more fit. Since I’ve been out of the hospital, we’ve even done a bit of research about eating for IBS and have been purchasing food to reflect my soon-to-be-constant-no-ifs-ands-or-buts lifestyle. We’re really good motivators for each other! It’s been nice. And seeing Bernard every day all day instead of having just ONE day a week together has been really wonderful.

Bernard had the weekend off from Muay Thai classes so we’ve been relaxing, a little too much. I was booting up another episode of Gossip Girl when Bernard turned to me and said “Can I show you some boxing moves?” and it turned into an hour long mini-review workout! We did high kicks, planked it up, situps, punched the air for like 5 minutes straight (easier said than done, but oh so awesome) and then we finished off with me teaching him some complimentary yoga poses.

I felt amazing. Bernard did 15 of something and I said I’d do 10, but I did 15. Bernard did 50 of something and I said “yeah right, I’ll try 10” and did 50. Amazing. I felt so great about myself. I was full of energy and my brain was feeling mighty awake! I immediately wanted to write a blog and run around the block!

We cooked dinner together and talked about how we should make Bernard’s off days a small sample workout routine together. It’s so much more motivating if Bernard shows me what he learned in class and teaches me how to do it. Also, it’s an excellent warm up for him so he keeps his strength up for the next Muay Thai session.

It’s kind of incredible how great today has been. Although I got up really late, I cleaned the whole house* (Naturally, cleaning the house is a lot more fun with good old fashioned cleaning music. NOTHING is more appropriate than this: BADASS CLEANING MUSIC I managed to get through 47 minutes before I lost my mind a bit and needed a break from all the extreme NST NST NST of this song…) , we did some grocery shopping, had a workout, cooked breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and did some future planning.

In short, push yourself! I pushed myself with the help of my amazingly buff husband and I feel 8 million times better than I did hours before. It woke up my muscles and my brain, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to sleep well tonight!

Also, stay tuned for the Asian Hulk

aka Bernard. He’s gon’ be RIPPED.

The only man equally as hot as my husband... 

It’s kind of exciting. I expect Bernard will kill a bear for sport with his chiselled Muay Thai muscles. Watch out Chuck Norris!

Always a pleasure! I hope you enjoyed all the shirtless Asian men. And Taye Diggs. 

Until next time,

Sarah the motivated Wun

HBD IBS: An unpredictably obstructed birthday extravaganza

Thanks abdomen, that’s JUST what I wanted for my birthday

A few weeks ago, I celebrated my 27^th birthday. I started the celebrations at the beginning of the week by sampling some of my favourite foods on Monday and enjoying a massage on Tuesday. Wednesday would be my day of fun and birthday goodness because Thursday, my actual birthday, I had to work so I couldn’t have too much fun.

On Wednesday morning, Bernard and I got up and had a quick snack. We were meeting a bunch of friends for Dim Sum brunch across town but not until 12:30, so we ate a little fruit to tide us over until then.

I must have tried on 8 billion outfits and did my makeup 4 times. I was really excited – my first birthday outside of Canada! We hopped the metro (rush hour to the right!!!) and headed over to Fu Lin Xuan where some friends were waiting for us at a big, beautiful table in a private room. We exchanged hugs and waited for the rest. More people than I was expecting showed up. 

Everyone had a huge smile on his or her face and immediately we began chatting, eating, and laughing. I felt so warm and fuzzy! I missed my family a lot (I still do!), but having such warm, friendly faces around me sharing my favourite foods and celebrating was a really great feeling.

At lunch, my friends sang Happy Birthday to me in languages from their respective countries. I was serenaded in Russian, Chinese, Filipino, Afrikaans, Cambodian, French, Spanish, and naturally English. It was a really nice experience. I also got gifts, which was unexpected! Think about it. Feeling love from all over the world! That’s how it felt. I also received cards from back home, which made me feel just as close as if I had been in Canada that day.

After Dim Sum, we decided to continue hanging out so we all grabbed ice cream (aka my friends and husband grabbed ice cream and I waited and searched for other goodies later). After ice cream and a slice of lemon cake (yum!), we walked around, did a little shopping, and just chilled with a few friends before picking up a duck for dinner and bringing it home.

Bernard and I, along with two beautiful friends, chowed down on some delicious duck (to the right... yummmmmm) and rice and then I changed into my birthday dress and we headed out for the second part of my day! The Rum Bar!

At the Rum Bar, we met up with more friends, some of whom I hadn’t seen in a while. Big hugs, warm smiles, and cheers were had. We shared a few toasts of rum and made our way next door to a club where I did what I do best – danced my ASS off! The night started with free flow champagne and 90’s beats. I was in Heaven. My tummy was filled with dim sum and duck, a little rum, and a glass of champagne. 

It was too dark to take pictures but I did anyway!!! 

The room held some of my favourite people who loved me for the crazy, loud, hilarious, and naturally hot ass I am. I was really happy. It’s not every day I gorge myself a little on food and alcohol and get spoiled by such warm compliments from people I’ve known a short time who have come together to celebrate my birthday.

Wednesday was perfect. I had the most beautiful day.

The next day it was my actual birthday. I was woken up by delicious smells of french toast cooking in the kitchen. Topped with fruit and love! I also received gifts from Bernard, which perfectly complimented me: scarves for my scarf-obsessed ass, comforting lavender and herbal teas. It was perfect. I was happy. I was even excited to go to work!! Yes, it was my birthday, but I love teaching; so doesn’t it seem fitting for me to do what I love on my birthday?! J

At work I was feeling a little uncomfortable and unfortunately my pains grew so strong that I had to leave and go immediately to the hospital. I called Bernard who met me halfway and accompanied me to my safe haven: the most beautiful, spa-like, comforting International hospital in Shanghai! (aka I’ve never been anywhere else, but I don’t need to go anywhere else. This hospital is amazing).

I was pretty sure I was okay and just needed some medicine and a doctor’s note for work. I was wrong.

After an X-ray and some urine and blood work, I was told I had an intestinal obstruction and it was serious. I would be admitted to the hospital that evening. I burst into tears. I went into the waiting room and cried at Bernard. He followed me back into the doctor’s office where the doctor explained what was going on. I protested against being admitted and said I HAD to go to work (because I’m such a responsible and selfless adult), but the doctor and Bernard metaphorically bitch-slapped me back to reality. The doctor threw around words like tumor and blockage and rupture and the possibility of the big “c”. I lost it. I buckled over in my chair and worried like a jackass. He then assured me that he would do a thorough investigation and make sure I was fine before I left the hospital. Being my last week at work, I was devastated. Life… what the hell is your problem? First of all, it’s my birthday! I have dinner plans! Also, I have work to do!!! I was forced to put EVERYTHING on hold and worry about my stupid abdomen. Frigging body. Such an attention whore…

Bernard did all my paperwork while I sat in the waiting room and calmed down. A nurse came by to comfort me and then she walked me to my room.

“Welcome to the honeymoon suite! We hope you enjoy your stay at the Shangri-La hotel”. Kidding! But seriously though. This room was double the size of our apartment and the bathroom was glorious. The bed was actually pretty comfortable and there was a flat screen TV and a fridge and microwave and a washing machine! Damn!

I decided to remain calm. If I had to be ill, at least I was in a beautiful place with MANY doctors to attend to me. Nurses came and went; first with my IV (not bad… this bitch knew what she was doing and it didn’t hurt as much as I anticipated), then with medicine after medicine after medicine (“I love you Bernard. I’m so happy. Isn’t this place pretty? I’m so thankful. I see clouds.”) Then to measure my blood pressure, then to give me some medicine NOT orally (I’ll spare you. Long story short, I cried and called the nurse a slut because she ignored me when I said “I don’t want to do that”. BUT it worked and helped my ‘situation’). Then to just check on me and update me with tests and what would happen tomorrow and the next day.

On Friday, I sent a reluctant Bernard to work. He wanted to stay with me, but I assured him I would just be lying around watching Gossip Girl and sleeping on and off and complaining about my IV.

I had a lot of time lying in that hospital bed to think about things. I’m in Shanghai. I’m teaching English. I’m being treated for something I already knew was a problem. I’m being cared for. I had an amazing birthday celebration the day before. I was loved and comforted by many people around me. My phone was blinking all weekend with friends and family messaging me asking how I was doing. With the exception of my bowel, I felt great. Support and love are some of the best medicines, really.

Later on, I went down for a CT scan and the nurse informed me of what would happen when I got the shot of stuff in my hand. She said I would feel very hot but this was normal. I went into the room, all smiles. (Hey! I know I’m in a hospital and it’s not fun, but this is an adventure nonetheless and I love my life, and if all this shit has to happen, I may as well smile through it). I laid down on the bed thing and a doctor came over and started talking to me. He was from Pakistan and doing his internship at Shanghai University. He was really nice and said I had such a positive attitude and was really happy for someone in the hospital. I said “why be sad and pissed when you can be happy?” and he said I was a refreshing patient because most patients yelled at him and blamed him for their illnesses. I said there was no point in blame. I said I blamed all the damn delicious food in Shanghai for my condition! He laughed.

The nurse asked if I felt hot yet and I said no. Maybe it only happened to some people. Just then, they moved me into this tube thing to do the scan. I started to feel weird. Not bad or in pain, but really strange. It was kind of cool! I was really warm all over my body. I felt like I was peeing, which I know is gross, but shut up it feels good to pee! – I wasn’t peeing, calm down. Then all of a sudden the feeling stopped. It’s really cool to have feelings like that; feelings you know you probably won’t have again. I embraced it. It was happening and it wouldn’t stop, so I may as well embrace it. (As much as you think I’m a strong, positive, and sunshine person right now [wow look at Sarah. She’s so positive taking everything with a smile and dealing with what’s coming to her like a champion], I’ll have you know I did NOT embrace the non-oral medicine…. That procedure can shove it. I will cut somebody before doing that again). Haha!

I got the scan and was sent back to my room for more Gossip Girl and sleeping on and off.

I was discharged a few days later with medicine and a strict no eating, very little getting up routine. I spent the next few days at home really enjoying being in my apartment with no IV and relaxing. I also, once again, thanked God for having two bathrooms!!!

The best thing to come from this experience was realizing that it takes a lot to get me down. As much as I was pissed about the whole thing and had a few WHY ME?!?! moments, for the most part, I felt cared for, comforted, loved, and safe. I was informed 4 days later that my tests came back normal and I didn’t have pancreatic or colon cancer. Nothing would rupture. There was no tumor. I had a minor infection that I’m working on treating.

What an adventure! A STUPID adventure. Sometimes we forget that life happens when we’re living. I temporarily forgot that I had IBS when I was celebrating my birthday! I didn’t hydrate enough, I ate too much, I just didn’t take care of my abdomen. And I need to.

Living with IBS is an adventure. More often than not, it’s a shitty one – PUN INTENDED! But you know what? It’s an adventure nonetheless, and I’m having a great time getting to know my body and my self and realizing just how strong I am when it comes to eliminating certain things (specifically food). Is it a drag to not be able to eat pizza, cheese, ice cream, most sugars, fried foods, and some days nothing but rice? YES! But Bernard keeps saying, “You’ll outlive us all because you’re FORCED to be healthy”, and that’s not a bad thing.

I don’t eat vegan foods and avoid gluten and do yoga and drink herbal tea to be cool and hipster… I do it because it helps me live a better life and in turn makes me the happiest I can be. If you can eat gluten, DO IT. But don’t forget to drink lots of water. J I know I won’t forget anymore. *downs a lake of water* *pees for 6 days* Dear water, GET IN MY BODY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DOCTOR’S ORDERS. Tell me something I don’t know… Stupid IBS. Bitch, I hate you … but you’re around so let’s go shopping and you can try NOT hurting me, okay?

Here’s to being hopeful and dealing with what ails me wun day at a time,

Love you all,

Sarah the positive Wun

P.S. When you feel like shit (PUN), put on some lipstick, let down your lion's mane, and pretend you feel great... more often than not, you'll feel better. I sure did.