Eleven years later: a thank you note to English teachers

I've had a long-cherished daydream that one day, I'll write a novel and it'll get published.  Inside, the dedication: along with the usual to family and friends, one special person whom I haven't seen in decade(s)... my seventh-grade English teacher.
But it's already been 11 years and I'm no closer to being published now as I was then.  And I want to say "thank you" before it's too late.
So lasso that Christmas spirit, pull out your fancy gel pens, and put your thoughts on paper; you might not get another chance.
This is the letter that I sent to the English teacher who changed my life:

Dear Mr. L--,

I was a student in your seventh-grade English class at E-- Middle School in 2002.  You were a fantastic teacher and I have always remembered you.

This month, I graduated from --- University with an MA in English Language and Literature, and I would like to thank you for your part in setting me on the path toward my passion.  I have often thought of writing you to say “thanks”, but I wanted to wait until I had accomplished this so you could really know what a difference you have made in my life and the lives of your students.

I always loved English and wasn’t an all-star at other subjects, like math.  But my 12-year-old self’s understanding of the world was that the one thing I was good at was not “real” or valuable.  My memory might have exaggerated over the years, but in my mind, you are the person who told me that “writing IS a real job” and I have never forgotten.  I so vividly remember biking home from school after our conversation that day more light-hearted, more hopeful, and more confident in myself than I had ever been before.  Since then, I have never put down my pens or my books. 

I’m sure that you continue to inspire, counsel and encourage hundreds of students; I hope you know how your kindness, teaching, and impact is treasured, and with what fondness you are remembered.

Thank you!

Yours,

JEM Colborne   

He's the person who told me one could study English, one could write for a living.  I spent the rest of my middle and high school career buried in notebooks, cooking up novels, toting around a thesaurus heavier than any of my other textbooks and dreaming of the day I'd see my novel in Chapters.  And now here I am, 11 years later, six of those spent directly studying Literature, now a "master".  If I didn't say "thank you" now, I might never get a better opportunity.

So seize the day, fellow bibliophiles!  Life is short.  Love is strong.  The time is now.

xoxo

JEM

So the moral of the story is...

Pee isn't supposed to be bloody; but apparently it isn't supposed to be bright yellow either.
All these years I've made such a joke of it: "Oh, I live off coffee!  Oh, I'm the most dehydrated girl in the world!  I haven't had a glass of water in weeks!"
Well, the joke's on me because over time, the consistent dehydration I thought was "no big deal" actually created a rawness in my bladder that caused minor bleeding and a whole lot of discomfort.
If you read my last post, you'll know I was making bathroom trips ridiculously often; I had to pee all the time and we couldn't figure out why.  I had a minor meltdown pre-cystoscopy, imagining horrific scenarios like cancer or infertility.  How embarrassing but relieving to find out I was the cause of my own easily-treatable ailment.
So the moral of the story is: drink your eight cups of water per day.  Don't skip 'em.  Because it's not the cystoscopy that hurts (it's uncomfortable, sure, but not truly painful) but the peeing after is a BITCH.
Don't get me wrong; the hospital staff was exceptionally nice and the male nurse who chatted with me was hilarious-- but I wouldn't want to make this a regular thing.  Much better to drink litre upon litre of H2O and have to pee plenty at the moment; my doctor assured me that soon I'll have "trained" my bladder back into a regular schedule.  But only if I drink.  I guess it's a "use it or lose it" kind of thing.

You can read the start of my medical journey here.

Bookin' it

JEM