Off sick

I had a day off yesterday. My first this year. It felt like failure.



Having a day off as a teacher seems so much more troublesome than most other jobs but I'm sure it probably isn't.

Firstly there's the having to drag yourself out of your sick bed in order to write cover which always seems like a terrible imposition. I don't know about anyone else but writing cover lessons always seems at least twice as difficult (and definitely takes twice as long) as planning a lesson for when I know I'll be present to deliver it. Added to that is the knowledge that the cover teacher may or may not bother with my intricately planned masterpiece and even if they do the kids' work rate drops through the floor.

So, cover planned and duly emailed off, you crawl back into bed, groan softly to yourself and sink peacefully into much needed slumber. Well, maybe you can but I find that no matter how bad I feel, the temptation to check my email is bloody hard to resist. I think it must be guilt.

Underneath the aches and shivers a knot of guilt and anxiety grows steadily throughout the day. I worry mainly about the colleague who will have been put out in order to ensure that my students can ignore whatever cover I've cobbled together and who even now feeling ill disposed towards me. I worry that they're having to work harder so that I can languish in bed. I worry about the state my room will be in and whether I'll have any board markers left.

Vainly attempting to assuage some of this nagging anxiety, I start forcing myself to do little jobs; respond to some 'urgent' emails, mark some books and generally work myself into a sweating, bleary eyed zombie. In short, having a sick day is almost more effort than stumbling in and sitting slumped at my desk slurping Lemsip and letting the kids watch educational videos.

Or so I convince myself.

I decided last night that I was 'well enough' to drag myself in. And in fact, despite the threat to my mental health, physically one does feel better after a day lounging around with no one demanding you check the latest sentence they've written.

Today was worse. I felt feverish and shaky all day and had to sit down quite a lot. The worse bit is fielding all those well meaning colleagues asking if you're feeling better. This is what's called phatic talk. No one wants to hear that, no I feel rubbish actually. The correct is answer is, "Yes thank you."

Then there's the kids. Admittedly most were sweetly, even pathetically grateful to have me back. There was lots of questions about exactly how sick I'd been, speculation about whether it was probably a hangover and one asserting he'd seen me in McDonalds. A quick check in their books is sufficient to ensure that what I'd thought were well planned cover experiences were in reality misspelled, ill-conceived drivel and that, wisely, they chose to draw pictures instead.

But I did it. And ultimately, weirdly, I feel 'better' for having soldiered on.

Is there a moral? Yeah, probably something about schools putting undue pressure on staff etc. etc. The bit I dread most is the Return To Work interview where I'm asked if I need any help to ensure that in future I'm in and passing on my lurgies.