In 2003, there was a study that showed “hugging for 20 seconds noticeably reduces blood pressure, heart rate, and stress” (source). This is what Joliette told me one day our first year at Samara. We hugged each other and our students often that year. We were founding the first 4th grade, and I’d go on to found 5th grade with the same group. It was a busy and stressful year, and it was November, around our first parent-teacher conferences, when our energy levels were depleted and we weren’t sure we’d make it to Thanksgiving break.
I’m thinking about hugs right now as I sit in a park in the shade, letting the breeze cool me off while I type this slice on my phone.
On Thursday morning when we were getting ready to leave for the overnight, greeting parents and students in the lobby and waiting for the bus, I was suddenly hit with a wave of dizziness. It had happened briefly the night before, but just for a few seconds. This was lasting minutes.
I figured it was a side effect of an antibiotic I had just started taking, that or my nerves acting up before the big trip. Either way, it freaked me out. If you were following along with me for last year’s challenge, I had a month of unexplained vertigo in March that was pretty frightening. I started to panic — had my vertigo come back? Was I experiencing one of the rare side effects of the antibiotics? Would I faint on the trip and need to be carted off to the emergency room, scarring my students for life?
I gave Kim a hug and whispered in her ear what was happening, and she told me to take a break in the other lobby, go to the bathroom, and breathe.
But it didn’t help.
We loaded up the bus and I managed to keep a brave face until getting on, then I settled into my seat, letting Kim and our other two teacher chaperones take the lead. The kids were distracted with each other in the back. Good. I put on my headphones and pulled up a new mix, got my sunglasses out, and took a deep breath.
In-two-three-four.
Out-two-three-four-five-six.
My fingers tingled and my brain felt too big for my skull. I would calm down enough and then picture another worst case scenario. I was hot and freezing. The bus’s AC was strong, but was it this strong? I stopped being able to tell the difference between the waves of anxiety and the dizziness.
Kim texted me to see how I was doing and I told her I’d come to try to give her a hug soon, that that’s what I thought I needed. When I got up, she was passing snacks out in the back, and I saw N sitting solo.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, sliding in next to her. She leaned up against me. She’d been absent on Wednesday, and earlier that morning, her mom had called and explained that she was saying she was sick because she was scared to sleep away from home. We’d encouraged her and told her we’d be there for her the whole time, that all of her friends would miss her terribly. She decided to come.
“I’m okay,” she mumbled, snuggling up into me.
We hugged for a long time. I could feel my anxiety melting away. I was still a bit dizzy — so there was definitely a side effect of the medication happening there — but I also felt a sense of “this is gonna be okay.”
“You know,” I said to N, “I was really nervous about this trip too. I was dreading it actually! 16 fifth graders on an overnight?!”
N laughed.
“But I’m so glad we’re going, and this hug is making me feel a LOT better.”
“Me too,” she said.
Kim got back then and laughed.
“Wait, you two look so cute! Let me take a picture.” She snapped it and then mouthed to me, “you do look a bit pale.”
“I’m better though,” I said. “This hug is what I needed!”
There’s much more to post about the trip — N actually did get sick. She spiked a fever but was a trooper with Children’s Advil and a big smile. I felt pretty awful all day on Thursday but still had a blast, and luckily have been feeling better (though tired!) since Friday morning — but that’s for a future slice. Today, I’m just grateful for hugs.
Writing With Abandon 