Teaching with Elmo

Today was my first day back at school in a week, 9 days to be exact. Not only did getting back to school alleviate my guilt of not being there, but it almost made things seem normal again. Not being able to drive myself yet, my wife not only took me to school this morning, but she carried up everything for me. She even forced me to use the elevator, which I would have likely avoided if I were on my own. Stairs to me are not just more adventurous on crutches, but they are a form of "rehab" for my recovery. Once in my room, there was much to do to get ready for the day, including rearranging my room to accommodate me teaching from my desk with a document camera, known as an "Elmo."

As she kissed me goodbye and left the classroom after getting me perfectly set up, I knew I was on my own the rest of the day. I felt momentarily sad and helpless. That is until the first student came in for help saying, "Hey, Korpi! Glad you're back. How are you feeling, anyway, I have a few question on the homework from last week . . . . ." I barely had a chance to talk about how my knee was still rather swollen and that I was still enduring constant pain and discomfort but that I was nonetheless glad to be back before I was solicited for math help. Yep, I knew I was back.

And so my day went, as each new student trickled into class, they'd ask how I was, I'd reply briefly, succinctly, and as humorously as possible. Students were there to learn math, and I was there to teach it to them. Discussion about my knee, the infection, stories of my hospital stay, etc. were kept to a minimum. As each student entered the room, their warm up problem was displayed on the data projector as usual and the quote board was filled with the typically healthy dose of new sayings, aphorisms, word puzzles, vocabulary words, and even limericks. Yep, they were glad to have me back. It was interesting for me to watch them try to find their seat as they entered the room. As a result of me teaching entirely on the data projector screen as opposed to the dry erase board on the adjacent wall, my wife had turned each desk ninety degrees to face the projector screen, making rows out of columns and columns out of rows. Most classes simply sat in an analogous configuration to what they previously sat, but some sat in the exact same spot, so that their old front row spot now put them near the back along the left side of the room.

Luckily for me, my old TV producer was kind enough to deliver the "Elmo" from the filming studios, which enabled me to be off my feet the entire day. To improve the visibility and increase the contrast, I turned off the lights in the classroom so that the only light source was the projector on one end and the sunlight coming through the windows on the other side. It felt a bit strange looking out at nothing but silhouettes of students as I instructed, but I still knew they were out there, awake, I wasn't sure, but physically there, I was certain. Not only was there a soporific risk of slumber by students because of the darkened room, but I noticed that teaching from a stationary point does not inspire the same quality of bombast or levity as does teaching from a more commanding, upright, mobile position. Although I did my best to be enthusiastic and entertaining from by chair in the dark at the front of the room, partially hidden behind the tall arm of the "Elmo," I feel like I was somewhat boring the students, if not myself.

I do hope this is an ephemeral situation and that I can be back on my feet by next week, jumping around, delivering my math in the fluid, jovial way I'm used to. But if today is any indication, that day may be far away. As I finished the day, I was not only physically exhausted, blame it on the antibiotics and their anemic side-effects or the fact that I'm getting about 1 hour of sleep each night as I toss and turn writhing in pain as my knee throbs and throbs with each beat of my pulse, but my knee actually was more swollen, in more pain, and less flexible than it was at the start of the day--and I had done what I was supposed to, right down to using the elevator! I'm guessing that because I was sitting at my desk without my bad leg elevated (it would put me in a very uncomfortable position and make it difficult to reach the digital camera platform), the blood just pooled in my knee as it rested all day long 18 inches below my heart.

Tomorrow, I must figure out a way to keep my leg elevated above my heart, while writing 90 minutes worth of notes on the "Elmo," working through the pain and discomfort to deliver a coherent, cogent lesson that is also entertaining and stimulating all while I'm being observed by an assistant principal for my professional evaluation.

It should be an exciting day once again.

Mathematical Musings: XI

More of what I have purportedly said in class through the years:

• . . .so the population comes out to 803,773.869 people. Mathematicians are very interested in that .869th of a person. Many actually like numbers better than people. People more concerned with humanity will give that .869th person the benefit of the doubt and make them a whole person.
• When taking the derivative of an exponential function that is not the natural base, you must remember to multiply, not divide by, the natural log of that base. To help you remember: "P-roduct" has a "P" in it, and so does "ex-P-o-nent." Wow, when you say that really slowly with a certain emphasis, you might think is was giving you a vulgar command.
• Well, our daughter was born last Thursday. We named her Jenna. Because she was born with so much hair, her middle name is Fur. Her full name is now Jenna Fur Korpi.
• That was very deep!! You ought to send that into Reader's Digest. They have a page just for people like you.
• If you just punch in the numbers into your calculator and hit enter, it spits the answer out, but you won't get wet because the plastic screen acts like a splash guard.
• I have no use for a cell phone. I don't have an exaggerated sense of my importance, and I think talking to other people is overrated. Besides, what's wrong with writing a letter?
• I didn't have to pay a thing for my home gym. I furnished it with free weights.
• Today in class I reviewed subtraction with my students. I hope it made a difference.
• You can bring your assignment to me this afternoon or tomorrow morning, whichever comes first.
• I got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, which wouldn't have been bad, except my bed is up against a wall, and now, I have this huge Sheetrock repair.
• Why were you absent last class? Were you sick or just ill?
• My son doesn't listen very well. No matter how many times I tell him, he just won't sit still while I tickle him.
• I always afraid to go to functions where large crowds are gathered because in the event of an accident, I would hate to hear the words, "Is there a mathematician in the house?"
• If we don't find the solution, who will? Should we employ a search party?
• All the easy theories have already been taken. Hooke had it easy.
• I should have started making these clever comments later in the year, because I believe I am running out of them.
• When you sleep in my class, please have the courtesy to remain sleeping while I talk about you.
• Don't believe everything you read in the dictionary.
• If you think integrals are fun, let me tell you about double and triple integrals.
• There is a limit at that point, and the limit is infinity.
• Pardon me, I was just caught in a repetitive loop of self-indulgence.
• The following problem could be on the test, but it won't, so take good notes.
• The good thing about being a math major in college, was that the labs weren't very smelly, unless you count my unkempt TA.
• Now where was I, before I so rudely interrupted myself?
• Is he salivating because of my savory lecture, or is he slobbering on his desk in his sleep?
• If theorems were people, this one would be my best friend.
• On any Chemistry test, I think it's important to know your basic acids.
• The only math I am requiring y'all do over summer is to count the days until you are in my math class again next year.
• There won't be extra credit on the exam, but I'll tell you what I'll do: I'll give you full credit for everything you do right.
• If each of you spent as much time studying for your final exam as you spent trying to find ways of making the test easier, you'll accomplish your goal.
• You are all making me so angry asking me to leave class that I'm this close to granting your wishes.
• Difficult problems are only torture to the dedicated math student who actually labors over them and is interested in finding their solutions. The rest of y'all only are interested in complaining about them.
• I'm Mr. Korpi. This is my brain, and this is my dry-erase marker: my instruments of math instruction.
• Don't be fooled by the proofs that I got, I'm still Korpi from the block.
• I think I'll go to the barber today after school. I'm going to have my hair cut longer.
• No, I didn't get a haircut, I just combed my hair shorter today.
• The word is not rel-ishing, but relish-ing, which is the act of putting diced pickle products on hot dogs.
• Korpi: Please don't ever call me 'guy' again. It's a little too informal. Student: OK 'man.'
• Shhhhhhh. Listen everybody . . . . .Do y'all smell that?
• You can use your notes on the exam as long as you use them inside your zipped backpack, which won't really help you unless you are a contortionist, but even then, I think it would be too dimly lit to see anything.
• Just because you see me doesn't mean I'm here, anymore than not seeing me means I'm not here.
• If you should find any mistakes on the exam, please raise your hand so that I can tell you to disregard them.
• You want a hint. OK, here's your hint. "Look not in the grassy knoll."
• Student: Can I burn my textbook? Korpi: Sure. Are you cold? I hear that math textbooks make good fire fuel, especially the chapter on logs.
• . . . and I was so touched by her sincere gratitude in her 'thank you' note for the letter of recommendation I gave her, that I wrote her a 'thank you' note, to which she replied . . .
  
• I'm persistent. Only after trying it from 90 different Angles did I get it Right.
• If you have any mathematical emergencies over the summer, please do not hesitate to call me. I'm there to help.
• Before you turn in your textbooks for the year, please remove the book cover that it never had and make sure it is your name that you never wrote written in it.
• I'm going to try really hard not to miss you this summer, except if you were a bad student and I see you while I'm out driving in my car.
  

Progress

No blog yesterday, as I'm not feeling the most energetic nor creative these days. I spent most of yesterday sitting as comfortably as I could on the reclining love seat amidst all the amenities my wonderful wife set before me, from magazines, to medications, to drinks on ice, fresh fruit, blankets, laptop computers, remote controls, and telephones. I DID have to get up to go to the bathroom, however. It was there I mostly read while doing small exercises with my leg, like muscle clenches, bending exercises, isometric contractions, and those infamous leg lifts. Who ever knew such basic things could constitute exercise, much less be so difficult and uncomfortable.

What has been annoying through this whole infection process, other than my inability to walk or be comfortable, is the constant sinusoidal ranges of my body's temperature. Continuing from my hospital variations, they are continuing here at home, likely because the the internal battle between good and evil, antibiotics and biotics. At one time, I'm freezing my butt off under three blankets with my teeth chattering with a temperature that has never exceeding 100.1 (Fahrenheit, not Kelvin), then a few hours later, my fever breaks and it feels like I'm in a sauna beneath soaking wet, stinking blankets. The cycle happens at least once a day. It's AFTER the breaking of the daily fever that I, after drying off, finally feel a bit "chippery."

Yesterday, after my wife came home just to make me some soup (she really is the BEST), I was not only very cold, but I was very tired and exhausted (perhaps too many morning leg lifts?), so I decided to take a nap. Three hours later, I woke up as beads of sweat were running into my ears and closed eyes. Both sides of my pillowcase were so wet I could have rung them out. By then, my wife and daughter came home and we had a little family time and a little dinner before they were off again to meet my son at church. I spent the rest of the evening reading and watching an all-new "Ghost Hunters" on the Sci-Fi Channel. By 9:00, I was getting tired again and again starting feeling cold. I didn't argue with my body, so I joined my wife in bed, who was ALSO very tired, for very different reasons.

So that brings me to today, Thursday. My morning today began similarly to yesterday's: waking in pain and discomfort and drenched in sweat. I have, though, already made some good strides today. I actually "snuck" out around 6am in the dark down the long driveway to retrieve the morning paper. For the two deer in my yard where were watching me, it must have sounded like a scene from a horror movie (do deer watch them?), as the awkward cadence of my feet followed by the clicking sounds of my crutches and an occasional moan as my bad leg "stuck." The whole trip took about 6 minutes. Back in the house, I read the paper in only 5 minutes, including the crossword--kind of anticlimactic--but it was still worth the excursion in my book.

After that, I decided to start trying to put some weight on my leg. Yesterday was the first time I was able to put ANY weight on it whatsoever, I'm talking ounces, and today I thought I could build upon that as the antibiotics continue their battle 24/7. As I stood at my little command center in the living room, a crutch under each arm, I slowly began switching weight to my right leg, more and more. I felt my knee lock into place--discomfort but no pain! Pretty soon, I had equal weight on each foot! Woo Hoo! Maybe tomorrow I'd be able to lift my left foot, but for now I was elated. I then tried walking from the living room to the kitchen and back, walking like a normal person, still with the safety net of the crutches beneath my armpits. I made it!

Next, I found my cane. I did the same small familiar route again with only my cane for support. I did it, albeit slowly, without much difficulty. Additionally, I was free to wave to the walls, pick my nose, or pick up my coffee mug with my free hand. Oh, the liberation! Although it's barely 9:00am, today has already been a success in my book. Now I think I'll celebrate my increased mobility independence by sitting down at writing the six letters of recommendation for students who were expecting them this week, letters I expected to write last weekend.

See you tomorrow.

Home Sweet Home

I'm Home!! I'm Home!! I'm cleaned up, have had my neck adjusted by my chiropractic uncle ( the first stop after leaving the hospital), and sitting comfortably on my reclining sofa with my leg elevated. I don't think I'll ever take this moment for granted ever again.

To spare everyone the boring, painful details of what transpired from the time we went behind the double on Friday evening to the time we walked out of the Hospital on Tuesday afternoon, I'll just give the painful essentials, a la Faulkner:

got on a table, difficultly, medical professionals notice I'm in pain, quickly determine its infected, without haste the on-call surgeon is called, meanwhile an IV sends the first dose of morphine throughout my body making me very sleepy and my knee slightly less noticeable, chaos abounds as orderlies run, walk that is, to and fro, time passes painfully but accordingly, next door a child cries, has been crying, will be crying, obviously in more pain than I, but I hurt until the surgeon arrives and preps me for emergency surgery, but not before I thank every one in ER land for being so pleasant, an awkward, dry exchange occurs between me an my anesthesiologist as the pasta in my stomach causes a problem for using general anesthesia so she coldly suggests something in the back and sharply cuts off her words for an awkward amount of time until I realize she's asking me to make a choice, so I assume the risks of general anesthesia on a stomach of Italian hoping not to aspirate it during surgery, but I assure her it was so delicious I didn't plan on giving it back from 6 hours ago, then everything goes black as I suck on oxygen in a bright, white, sterile I hoped, room, awaking in my room with my wife by my side and my knee still aching, but apparently without all the yellow puss on this Saturday morning, and there I lay and lay and lie and lie in my bed and about me being OK, it hurts really bad, I thought the battery had been removed from the clock on the wall, the morphine they give me every two hours only lasts about an hour and gives me a bad migraine, the nurses don't come when I press the button, and the come all the time when I don't, mostly at night while I'm trying to sleep, but I do have lots of visitors who come to see me, but my wife is there the most, someone I need there, not only for support, but to make sure the nurses are nursing professionally as only few do and many, most, do not, but that's OK, I guess, I'm used to it, but one thing I couldn't get used to was being sweaty hot one minute and freezing cold another, but my vital signs did show I was running a constant fever, but nothing, not proficiency nor neglect, nor any of the myriad of programs offered on daytime t.v., could take my mind off of the horrible pain in my knee, but finally, yes finally, on Sunday, I got a great nurse, a super nurse, a smart nurse who told me of a simple procedure that could have been done the week prior to surgery to avoid the whole infection, a procedure, that if done by my whole family, would rid ALL of us of any potential bacteria we were carrying, and that afternoon, my knee finally began to lose some of its swelling, meaning the pain began to abate, still severe, but manageable, and I could finally lift my leg and slightly bend my knee so I knew the antibiotics were working and I thought of going home soon, but then came Monday, and with it, more of the same, which involved more progress in movement, less pain, and waiting and waiting in that darn uncomfortable bed which was now beginning to feel like a piece of concrete with a too small, wet sheet on it so I was uncomfortable in so many ways, but I didn't get to go home since it was the first day my original surgeon looked at it and he wanted to check it out again tomorrow, reserving the right to reoperate on it again if he needed to to reduce the swelling, but he'd see tomorrow, and so for the 3rd night in a row I had to go without any food or drink after midnight until the doctor saw me the next day and decided for or against another sugery, which often came late in the after noon, which meant that I also speant most of my days very hungry and very, very thirsty, and my back was in so much pain from laying around and the c1 vertebrae in my neck was out long ago, so I was so uncomfortable in so many ways until today when my nurse told me that my doctor called and said all of my lab values were good so I was free to go and she proceeded to tell me about the people to call and the pills to take when I got out to continue getting better and then it was almost 30 minutes later on this very Tuesday that I left that hospital.

As the sun hit my face, I felt the windy, moist air blow across my face. It felt fantastic. I climbed out of the wheelchair and into my wife's car and gave a sincere, "thank you" to the orderly who brought me to my car.

Now the real healing could finally begin. One cannot expect to feel better until one actually leaves the hospital, and I was looking forward to spending the next 5 days to get myself ready to get back to school.

On a "stranger than fiction" note. One of my best friends who came to see me in the hospital in my room, actually entered the hospital shortly before I did for emergency gall bladder removal surgery. The room they assigned him to was a room he had been in just days before. As luck would have it, my vacacy created and opening for him, and in an unfortunate coincidence, he is now recovering from surgery tonight in my old room. I'll call him later and give him some insider tips, but I sure hope no one he likes too much comes to see him in the hospital, 'cause I'm not sure they're going to like the prospect of ending up their themselves in a few days!

I wish him well, but boy am I glad to be out of there.