48 Days

Yep, I'm into counting the days - class days - until retirement. When I was in the Air Force, military types used to count and measure days they were 'short.' So when you got down to single digits, you'd say things like "I'm so short I'd need a ladder to get to a snake's belly."

Decades later, I'm finding that grove rather comforting - I'm short. 48 days until I can leave UU. This is a very good thing. The place is self-destructing around us, and the people who screwed me over last year are now facing their own existential crisis. The Prez is under fire not just from the faculty and staff, but even the Board of Trustees is after hir ass. The Dean had yet another blow up in a faculty meeting, got everybody (except me, cuz I'm so short) riled up over The Report and what it will do to the Arts & Sciences programs. Programs to be cut? Oh, you know. All the modern languages, most of the arts (studio, ceramic, etc). The university cabinet had sequestered themselves to make the hard decisions - but despite constant assurances of complete transparency, there is none. Nobody has any idea what they'll decide, when, how or if. Nobody knows if there are options for appeal. Turns out that the various Task Forces were instructed by the consultants to ignore the university mission as they determined priorities. How does that work? Dean is furious. And it turns out that - a year after they selected the consultant - that somebody finally looked at his CV. Seems he's linked to ALEC. Oh. Delightful. No wonder he wanted us to ignore the liberal arts focus of the university....

I'm back to doing glass. This is great news, as I've not been able to comfortably work on anything for months. All I've really done is fuse, and then turn the bits into jewelry. These are simply millefiori; all you do is cook 'em, and they turn out like this. Then I add findings, and all of these turned into earrings! Great fun, nearly instant gratification. Made 18 pairs of earrings and half a dozen pendants last weekend. Ran out of findings... so had to stop mounting. Then I ran out of millefiori, so had to buy more of those.

Now I need to start selling them, so that I can recoup my costs and support my habit. Gah. And keeping better records would help too... 

The Report is Out

Since last spring, RNU has been undergoing prioritization. How you define that seems to vary by individual, and what we all expected varied as well. Tuesday the first set of reports came out.

First, several of us have decided we're in the wrong profession - we need to be educational consultants. The money spent on this study - just to the consultant - was absurd, given the process and outcomes. Seems Mr Consultant offered a few talks (all on one day, so a one day lecture schedule), some written material that outlined the process (taken from a book, so not customized in any way), and... not much else. Hey, I can take the book, these reports, and repackage them, sell 'em on and cash in!?!

Second, the reports - there are two of them - are very different. The academic programs one is a long list in five sections (quintiles). In that report, the 228 programs on campus are 'ranked' into quintiles. There are no hints or anything as to what the committee/task force suggests, and the recommendations are so vague as to be worthless.  The lists are simply Q-5, with no explanation as to what those quintiles mean or imply. Certainly, the recommendations and conclusions are not worth the hours of labor that the TF put into the project. The staff/support report is, by contrast, amazing. It goes through every since 'function' and articulates what needs to happen for that function. Suggests massive reorganization and centralization (it's astonishing how silo-ized our campus is - probably 5 different groups doing the same job), elimination of much of the administrative bloat (yay!), stripping lots of positions and freebies out of the president's office (we had no idea they were doing all of that non-university-related stuff).

Third, our department came out much better than any of us had any right to expect. We made it into Q4, apparently meaning we need to "transform/re-invent" ourselves. Q5 programs, if one cobbles the two reports together and does a bit of Ouija boarding, should be eliminated, cut or deactivated. What I saw of our dept reports, we should have been at the bottom of the Q5 list - cut immediately. Instead, we got Q4. Okay. Dean explained that to me yesterday - every college/university in the region has one of us. (Sorry, but I cannot identify the department itself due to that damned gag order... even referencing the gag order violates the instructions to shut the hell up). Let's call it... Arts & Sciences Basic (hereafter ASB). So everybody who claims to be a college/university has a ASB department/program. So we couldn't be in Q5, no matter how bad we are. And let me assure you, give what the TF had to judge us on, we are really bad.

Where do we - they - go from here? Who knows. The deans have the opportunity to rebut, and then the whole shebang goes off to the president's prioritization group, who will decided what, if any, actions are to be taken.

As far as ASB goes, the people who are left standing are the dinosaurs. Completely out of touch with the field/discipline, in their 70s, they are privileged white men, secure in their privilege and tenure. The one who will be the most active in this process has not done any work in the field - research, writing or even keeping up with the scholarly literature of his own field - for (by his own account) 4 decades. He doesn't know how to turn on a computer, much less do a google search. Online resources and/or research is as remote and important to him as Serengeti insect life.  He's going to be the one that frames and re-invents the ASB department. He's a lousy teacher too. He got a teaching award from Sears (!) in 1991, and regards that as proof that he's an outstanding teacher. Eep.

It's both liberating and depressing to know that I'm walking out the door and leaving the students to this mess. It's hard to disengage, after 16 years of caring deeply, trying to make a difference.

Public: Retiring!

Told the dean last week that this  is my last term at RNU. Felt great. Zie was surprised - majorly - and hir jaw dropped. And then, I got to watch as the dinosaurs scramble, trying to figure out what it meant for them.

Dino1 proved the most astonishing. I have to quit giving him this power to prompt a response. He wants so badly to emerge as the hero of the piece. And he might well, despite his unfitness for the role. This is the man who (proudly) told me he hadn't done anything in the profession - research, service, writing - for 40 years. His version of scholarship is to read the NYT Review of Books, and to invent new classes based on non-scholarly works. He jumped right in, offering to teach 7 classes. Because he couldn't count. Two of these, that one, or just go ahead and add that one too, then this one here and of course we need to do that and that. "Err, are you sure? That's seven classes." "What? What? No, that's only five! I don't mind doing an extra prep!" Dean: "I've got a, b, c, d, e, f and g. That's seven." "Oh? No, two a, two b, c, d and e. That's not 7 is it? It is?" "It is." "oh." Oh indeed. Then I really pissed him off, as he was primping and puffing about his 'best student in 30 years' being available for adjunct. I choked, added that I was going to advise "above all, don't hire K as adjunct!" Dino was very indignant. Very. I was more articulate, and provided evidence of K unsuitability. Dino will prevail, as K is an acolyte. D is so out of touch with the reality of the field, that he doesn't see K as anything other than a replicate of himself. Which, IMHO, is precisely why K shouldn't come in as adjunct!

Oh. Well. Not my problem.

Knee doing well. Get the stitches out Tuesday, and hopefully cleared to drive. Which will promptly not happen, as the info sheet says PT, which starts Wednesday, will require pain killers. O. Joy. However, it'll be a process and one I need to get on, get moving, get completely mobile!

Some gratifying elements of the past week: good classes, some students returning from my best class ever, and the comments I got from my campus-friend-wide email announcing my retirement. Very nice, very affirming, very needed.

Buh-Bye 2014! And Bring on the New!!

Definitely retiring at end of spring term. Summer is full of travel plans,and then I'll come back here, pack up and move to the northwest. Once the house is empty, realtor-friend will get the piddly work done and sell it. I shall rent up there until I can decide what's next. If I love the place, I'll stay. If not, I'll move south or out or something. But I won't be back in Red Neck State, and that is what is important.

I'm really excited about all this. And ready to tell the Powers That Be - when the time is right. Hopefully right after they tell me I have to teach x, y and z next fall, and that they're eliminating the program around us. The prioritization process, which they'd hyped to all as completely transparent - isn't. And they are causing a lot of unnecessary fear and angst around campus. Enough so that it prompted my decision to retire early just to get the hell away from them.

That all means that this is going to be my last term at Red Neck U. That has so many implications attached to it that, for me, it's this New Life that is opening up. And it's starting off well.

Monday is my knee replacement surgery! So tired of the pain and associated sedentariness, that the promised pain and rehabilitation seems like a lovely future. The surgeon said 3-4 days in the hospital and then a couple in rehab before I can go home. The Insurance twits say 2 days for everything. I am always astonished that we tolerate the extortion of commercial insurance. Our carrier is, like many, known as Auto-No. Their first response to everything is NO. NO you can't have that doctor. NO you can't have that med. NO you don't need the care the doctor thinks you do. Yes, you can appeal, but that initial NO is just damned irritating. And totally unnecessary. No wonder more and more doctors are opting out of the insurance racket: they get the hassle of filing and tracking and fighting just as we do. Only as patients, we're the bottom of the food chain.

So the new year for me is one of hope and promise - the biggest hope being that the bad mojo of 2014 is all behind me. Here's hoping your New Year is fun, exciting, relaxing, productive and everything you want it to be!

Updates

1) Meds tweak doing great things. Got to a great doc - one who actually listens! And he gave me great news on the hormones, based on (gasp) recent research rather than old wives' tales. It pays to see a specialist.

2) Ditto. Dr on anti-depressants gave me one of those bump pills that you take with the anti-dep. And it works. So that's much better.

3) The Knee. Finally got self to a different doc - one who'd listen to me (!!) and she looked at the X-ray and said 'well, there's the problem! That's bone-on-bone arthritis! No torn meniscus; there's no meniscus left. That's the source of your pain.' Well, gee. Great. It's odd how much a relief a diagnosis can be, even if you don't want the ailment itself. But from diagnosis to the decision to replace the knee (nothing short of that is going to 'cure' the condition) was not hard and surgery is tentatively scheduled for early January. Meanwhile, I have bone on bone pain. The cortisone shot did zip (dammit), but the surgeon doesn't want to do the surgery until at least shot + 4 weeks. So now I'm trying to get something for the pain. Luckily, it's not too long and there's nothing that requires me to be on my feet or use the knee extensively between now and then.

4) The big news is that retirement plans are changing mightily. Hugely. As in... I'm most likely going to retire at the end of the spring term. I'm so fed up with my uni, and the current idiocy that sticking it out for a couple more years is just ridiculous. And unnecessary. Another change is location: not going to France. Thinking about Olympic Peninsula; which is a huge change but I am so excited about it it's funny. Some days I just want to leave now and others I'll be okay to go next week. August seems just impossibly far away. At the moment, the plan is to pack in August: three stacks: to be unpacked there,  to go into storage there and to donate/sell here. Hopefully the last will be the big pile. Then I'll call in the movers, they'll load appropriately and I'll take off with the animals and drive up. Where I will have a place to move into (rental). I'll commit to about a year to see if I like the place, if I can stand the weather (the Olympic rain shadow promises less rain and gray than Seattle, which I knew I'd never be able to stand) and that there's enough life there to make me happy. If yes, then I can spend next spring looking for a permanent residence there. If no, I'll try something/someplace else.

That is me being semi-rational. There are other times when I find a house up there and want to buy now, just take the leap. My friends here keep talking me out of such impulses. Sometimes I even thank them.

Why the change? Well, the biggest bit is the mess of a prioritization study being done on campus. It started last spring, when campus morale was already very bad. Over the past 7 months, the PTB have misled the entire process in so many ways. Buy-in was good; everybody seemed to understand that we as a university needed to take a hard look, figure out what's important, what we're doing well, all the things that 'prioritization' would seem to entail. But from the first, there's been very little in the way of solid information or leadership. The committees formed, then discovered that it would require lots of summer work. Well, for the people on staff who have 12 month employment, that was no big deal, but for faculty on 9 month contracts (most of us, say 95%) that meant lots of extra, unpaid work. They did it, dedicated to the goals and the university. But then they found out - only once into it - just how much work it was going to be. Everybody I've talked to said it was like taking on an additional part time job.

Once they'd one their work, they rolled out what the various departments had to do. We're a small program - 4 faculty, a dozen majors - we had 5 different reports to do: program, department, major, minor and shared minor. The reports required data that we didn't have, and that data was to come from various admin units. Except it didn't. It did come very late, and then was wrong, and then we were told to just use it. My dinosaurs wrote the department reports (me being not allowed anywhere near it), smug in the belief that nothing they did would really matter. So they made it up, used decades old data (based on memory and wishful thinking), and turned it in. And it's been like sending things into a black hole.

There's been no feedback, as those same over-whelmed committee 'champions' then had to read all those reports.  And then decide, based on something else, where in the 5 level matrix of importance, the program/dept/major/minor/shared minor lands.

All that was to have been done by now. The reports were promised to the Deans the first week of January. And then, shaZAAM!! The thing could be implemented in January and we'd be all reconfigured and shiny and new by end of spring term.

You can imagine, I'm sure, the mess that has ensued. Fear. Loathing. Distrust. Disgust. Fear everywhere, as we're all awaiting the ax. The Deans aren't sure whether or not they'll have a chance to rebut the findings, or where they fit in this process. And they have 100 times more voice than faculty. The distrust is palatable. There are those - my dinosaurs - who are confident that nothing will change. They are in a small minority. Most are afraid. Does not make for pleasant work environment.

One prof today told me that we're on the Titanic and his feet are wet. The lifeboats are in the water and loading. And, he's sure, the uni Prez is playing the part of Nero, playing while Rome burns. Or maybe he's the captain of that cruise ship that went aground off Italy: too busy packing his own bags to abandon ship to take notice of his passengers and crew. We could use Captn Smith....  Knowing enough to avoid the mess? Well, that might be too much to ask.

That Slippery Slope

Well, the PTSD diagnosis sticks. And explains much - but from the inside of my life? Things aren't wonderful. The company that made my hormones quit making that formulation, and my doctor said 'well, you shouldn't be on it still anyway. Try Black Cohosh. That does the same thing.' Well, after more than a month, I gotta tell you... it doesn't.

My shrink encouraged me to go back to the doctor and tell her that I'm too flaky right now, and under too much stress, to mess with the meds. So doc put me back on hormones.. but not the same ones. And after a month of those plus the Black Cohosh... no change. And rationally, I understand why nobody wants to tweak the anti-depressants until we get the hormone thing straightened out. I'm not in a particularly strong-rationality mode right now, and feel more like I'm sliding down that banana-peel-strewn slope to the precipice and right off into the black hole of depression. I've been down there before, and I really don't wanna revisit that place. Ever.

The knee continues to hurt (no, it's not arthritis); the opposite foot hurts, the depression lurks. I feel like I'm living inside a third or fourth rate, run-down and deserted motel with cracked windows and lurking nasties. Rationally, I know I'm not. Emotionally, that's what it's like, and things are just getting worse.

And meanwhile, out in the real world, I continue to more or less function. I teach, I read, I go out with friends. I did a 5K walk yesterday, and am pleased with my time and even kind of proud of my aches today. People still like being around me, and laugh at my jokes and snarks. But inside my head, things are not good.

An Interesting Insight

This past couple of weeks has been very uncomfortable. I was writing the other day, and a word popped out that seemed to just nail it: dysphoria.

Definition of DYSPHORIA

:  a state of feeling unwell or unhappy 

— dys·phor·ic   adjective

Origin of DYSPHORIA

New Latin, from Greek, from dysphoros hard to bear, from dys- + pherein to bear — more at bear

First Known Use: circa 1842

With no real understanding of what was at its root, I just felt something was off. It might be chemical - it's been a long time since my anti-depressents were tweaked. And this past summer, my HRT meds were discontinued by the manufacturer. So my new doctor said 'you shouldn't be on them anyway, not with your family history. Try Black Cohosh instead....' So meds might be at the root. Or general $hit that keeps coming. Or... whatever.

Today I got a different insight: PTSD.

My first through fifth response was 'hardly. Nobody's shooting at me, I've not had any horrific trauma.'

Shrinks are wonderful. The one I've been seeing for years suggested that The Mess certainly hit me, was certainly traumatic for me. So she got me past my embarrassment - self imposed - that anything in my life could be so traumatic that it could be called PTSD. But... if war causes PTSD, terrorist attacks, rapes, shootings - those are PTSD 1. Then it seems there might be another few levels of trauma that have long term stress associated stuff - okay. So my PTSD could be seen as relative, and maybe PTSD 47. It's given me a knew way to recognize what's going on, take steps to deal with it. To deal.

The Mess gutted me. Devastated. Then the Larry Mess in Africa, and the resulting blackmail attempts. Now, the uni is trying to ram a "Code of Ethics" down our throats, asserting authority over everything even off campus. Thankfully, the faculty blew up and has forced them to reconsider, but for me, it just opens up all those wounds all over again. Et voila! Stress.

I miss my blog

Back at the beginning of summer, I had to kill a 7 year writing project: my blog. This one started in its place, but ... something's amiss. It's not the same. I think I'm going to remove the subscribers only limit. All these limitations on my freedom are bothersome. The uni limits my actions and speech. That pisses me off. I think I'm going to remove the subscribers only limit. Maybe. If I do, I'll have to remove everything that mentions what's happened to me. That is yet another way of silencing me. More limits.

I've decided that I'm going to retire at the end of spring term, 2016. There's no reason to stay at a place that doesn't value my contributions or service. Teaching is important to me, and if I could simply teach I'd be okay. But even as they are telling me to do precisely that, they are expecting me to do more: more service, more 'counseling' (but no advising - go ahead and explain that separation if you can; they can't). So no.

Good stuff: The Alaska trip is shaping up, and we've had another friend sign on. It started with me and BFH (Best Friend Here). Then BFF (Best Friend France) agreed to join us. Now GFH1 has decided she'll join us too! This is gonna be fab.u.lous.

Madagascar also on track, finally. The only wrinkle there is that if 8 people don't sign up (counting us), it won't happen. I don't know when the cut-off date is, but I'm counting on 6 other people around the world saying 'oh hell yes, I'm going!' Fingers crossed.

Between the two, I'm property searching in Foreign Country (more self-censorship). Very excited about that, am also currently reviewing various floor plans and such. Amazing what people live with: toilets just inside the front door, with the nearest sink five doors away. Ick. No closets.

Went to something called a "Lifestyle Workshop" Saturday. Realtor-speak for 'think about what's important to the way you live before house shopping.' Fit in perfectly with what I'm already doing; I'd gone for a friend (co-sponsoring the event), won the door prize (first time in my life) and ended up learning a lot. This workshop was trying to get people to think about what they valued before deciding what style(s) they like. So, for example, I feel best in bright spaces, openness - both intellectual and spatial - is important. And I realized that my answers to her various questions kept coming back to light & space. And that my objection to 90% of the floor plans and houses I'd seen in the ads for homes in FC were all related to those things: spaces were small, choppy, dark. 2+2 = 4, y'know? I knew that? But it was coming at me in a different way at the precisely right moment. So it was a worthwhile experience.

So now I'm using pinterest to find and note things. And Evernote (thank you Janice!) to keep track of stuff, keep it organized. Ah, things are going pretty well. Dare I tempt the fates, and remove the 'invitation only' limits of this blog? Can I recover my blog-voice, or is it dead forever?

Life is Good, More or less

The knee was nasty for two days, and then... nothing. Feels fine. Who knew? My class is going well; for the first time in a long time, I am teaching my period/place, which is really nice. The students are enjoying it. It's lovely only being on campus two days a week; astonishing how liberated I feel.

I think I'm going to Madagascar next summer. Astonishing, but actually it's doable. The tour is actually cheaper than many people's trips to Europe. And - well, lemurs! And maybe Alaska. And maybe Ghost Ranch. Big travel summer, again.

Weather here is finally cooling down. It's cool enough to work in the yard and get back into the studio. Great sleeping weather too.

Found a new research interest too: gardens and landscapes as a mode of political discourse. Lots of reading to do - it's not quite as distressing as my 'normal' field. Which leads me to teaching the holocaust over and over. The new one will be quite different, but also more fun. And, as a friend said, since I'm on the verge of retirement, my productivity is what I make it. So this new field (no pun intended) offers opportunities to visit gardens, public and private, all over the continent. World, really. And to combine two existing interests: political/cultural history and gardening.

Horrified by a report on NPR re: domestic violence. Seems cell phone spyware is being used as a new tool for abusers to track, dominate and control their victims. What is wrong with people???

Not The Way to Start a Day

Woke early, feeling great. Really great! Stared at the ceiling, thinking of all the things I wanted to do. Make a run to the big box home center, and mount another light in the garage. Pay bills. Make calls. Write a letter. Read a book for class. Give the dog a bath. Got up, bounced happily into the kitchen for coffee, let the dogs out, went down the steps to get something... and my knee gave out.

Screaming pain. Won't hold my weight. Body goes into immediate pain-avoidance mode, refusing to let knee even work. Crap. Major pain.

Hobble back into the house, call the doctor.  Two minutes before office opens, so I leave a message. No call back within the first 15 minutes, so I call again, get to leave yet another message. Hobble around, testing knee. More pain. No swelling, just pain.

Still no call back more than an hour later, so I call again. Try the triage nurse; she's out for the day. Try the doctor; leave a message. Try the operator, who shuffles me around. "Earliest opening is tomorrow."
"Seriously? I'm in a lot of pain, and I can't use it."
"Let me see... no, tomorrow."
"Is anybody else available - today?"
"No, but hold a minute..."
Wait. Wait. "Well, Dr. B says they'll try to see you, but you have to get here right away."
"On my way." Get dressed, hobble to their office. Good thing I've kept the walker from the foot. An hour later, I hobble out. Didn't break it, seem to have screwed up a ligament.

Thankfully, I also have pain meds. Of course, those kept that entire list from getting done. Goooood pain meds.