Pacemaker Diary: First week back at work? Completed it, mate…

A couple of weeks ago, when I started back at work again it had been 108 days since I’d had a full day at work. On Monday 7th November, 2022 I’d become unwell in my classroom, suffering with heart palpitations and ending up in the Accident and Emergency department of the Leeds General Infirmary. Later that night, I was admitted to a ward. And so it began…

At that point, I thought I’d have to have a few days off work. That wasn’t to be. Even when I received the news that I would be having a pacemaker fitted though, I reckoned I’d be back in my classroom within a week or so. So, the 108 days ‘rest’ has been a tough one to swallow. It’s kind of exposed my lack of medical knowledge too!

My employer has been amazing about everything. While I was off I was regularly reassured that I just needed to take whatever amount of time was needed in order to get better and every time I said that I felt guilty for being away from work, I was told to stop it! Each time I submitted a new sick note they reassured me that it was no problem at all.

Then, when it came to the time to think about starting back, they put a plan for a phased return in place. It’s a flexible plan that just depends on how I’m feeling and it has eased me back in incredibly gently. This in turn makes me feel very guilty all over again, but I guess that’s just something I need to get over!

My first two days were treated as KIT (Keep In Touch) days, designed for me to just get used to being back in the building, really. So there was no teaching. In fact there wasn’t much at all. But, as I quickly found out, I needed to just get used to being around the place and the people.

On my first Monday, I was beyond nervous as I drove in. My hands were shaking and I felt physically sick, even though I’m always very comfortable at work. However, as I attended our morning briefing it was genuinely lovely to see so many friendly faces and speak to people who were pleased to see me back at work. Literally nobody knew I was ill at the time and so I think it had come as a bit of a shock to more people than I would ever have imagined. There were handshakes and pats on the back aplenty and it really helped to settle the nerves a bit. So thanks, if you were one of those people.

Those first two days were largely spent sat at a desk in our English office, clearing emails and reading through lessons, just to get back up to speed a bit. I tried to stay in there as much as I could get away with as I was finding being around larger groups of people a bit overwhelming. Having spent nearly 4 months being on my own a lot of the time, 900 kids and over 100 staff was a bit of a culture shock. A far cry from shuffling around the local park and muttering to myself about dog walkers!

On Wednesday I taught my first lesson. It was only Year 7 and only an hour, but it felt amazing. I surprised myself with how easily I slipped back into teacher mode and I thoroughly enjoyed myself, despite the presence of an Ofsted inspector in the room next door! I was assured that they wouldn’t be allowed to come into my lesson, but I still feared that they might just go rogue!

By the end of the hour I was exhausted. My mind was racing, but thankfully my heart wasn’t. My legs were like jelly and I felt like I’d done some kind of comprehensive workout. I’d taught a lesson which felt fantastic, but more importantly, I’d taught it in the room where I’d become ill on the day when I ended up in hospital. I was very concerned about being back in there, but it was OK. So far, a couple of weeks on, there have been no flashbacks either. It’s not that I thought there would be, but these kind of things happen all of the time on the telly, so you never know! Maybe I’ll add the flashbacks in when the inevitable call comes in to make the film of my dramatic pacemaker journey!

I was supposed to teach another Year 7 lesson immediately after the first one, but I knew part way through the first that I wouldn’t be able to do it. Luckily there was already a cover teacher in place; another example of how work are looking after me.

I left work every day that week at around 11.30am to go home. I can’t thank them enough for that. I genuinely feel that I want to be looked after. But I also feel conflicted by this. I know that the phased return plan is for the best, but it’s still frustrating in a lot of ways. However, as I’ve been told time and time again, I have to listen to my body and at the moment it’s telling me that while I’m well enough to be back in work, progress is going to have to be made with baby steps. So as frustrated and guilty as I might feel, I’m going to have to swallow my pride and be a big boy about it all if I’m going to get myself back to normal.

I’m happy to report that I had a lovely first week back at work. The fact that Ofsted turned up to inspect the school just as I was coming back is very much typical of my luck, but even that didn’t spoil the experience at all. My colleagues made sure that I was shielded from all of the stress and from my point of view, it was nice to be able to act as the voice of experience and pass on some words of advice at stressful times over the two day visit. It made me feel ever so slightly important again; something I haven’t felt in a while.

It was great to be back and feeling like I had a purpose. Better still to know that my body is just about standing up to the strain, even if I did leave yawning every day! I even snuck in an after work run on the Thursday because there was no one at home to tell me not to and it was a lovely sunny day. It felt great, even if when combined with a morning at work, it wiped out my afternoon. It reassured me though, that hopefully, I’m going to be alright. I just have to take things one day at a time. and stumbling step by stumbling step until I get to the top of this particular mountain.

Thanks to everyone who’s helped me through these last few months. Some of you will know who you are, while others won’t realise just how much they’ve helped. Thank you from the very bottom of my overly scarred, but machine controlled heart. And sorry again for what I’ve put you through.