Thursday, September 16, 2010

f my grad program, not my life

Having an absolutely craptastic day. Woke with my system so out of wack every little bad smell had me wretching & actually vomiting a couple times. Hubby hadn't managed to get 3yr old dressed before he left the house (he's about as sleep deprived as I am, maybe moreso, so not really surprising even though the extra to-do item on my morning list couldn't have been on a much worse day it turns out). Eldest kept returning to our part of the house for various and sundry last minute items before his grandfather was walking him to school, in rain that was setting off more of my symptoms so no way I could drive him & have any hope of making it to class on time (and hubby and I have had talks about 1st grader staying w grandpa in mornings & not coming into the part of the house where little brothers are still trying to sleep- days when I have a morning class I really need to delegate as much as I can if I have any hope of actually making it out the door before totally exhausting myself). He came back to me a total of five times this morning, more than any other day previously (grandpa has been walking him to school since last school year, not new proceedure). I called my care provider (who comes to my home to help me with getting kids in van then goes to campus with me, caring for my 3yr old at a kid-friendly space while I *try* to attend class with the baby), she made effort to get to my place a bit early in case my eldest actually needed a ride to school on top of everything else, luckily spotting him walking with grandpa as she was enroute to me.

I still hadn't managed to dress myself by the time the care provider arrived, still waiting for the pain med to fully kick in before trying to make those contortions. She helped get the 3yr old dressed & baby diapered & such but we were still clearly cutting time close by the time we were all seatbelted in the van. Sent a message to the prof's email from my phone via MMS telling her I was running late as the care provider buckled kids in the van. I hadn't managed to feed myself or the 3yr old so tried to swing thru BK for breakfast sandwiches, sat in the drive thru line behind just 4 cars for more than 10min before being handed food. Finally on the way, we made good time and I actually managed to drop off the care provider and 3yr old and get to the door of the parking garage for my class just before the class actually started.

Once again my ID card did NOT let me into the garage, a problem I had notified the Access Services office of 2 weeks prior. I called them on my cell while sitting there and they kept telling me the card should work. A building staff member happened to be outside and see what was happening (I *think* he was coincidentally the person who authorized me via email to have access to the elevator from the parking garage a few weeks ago, interaction with him resulting in my hitting my head against my desk repeatedly when he suggested I should take my scooter out thru the garage entrance into oncoming traffic that can't are me thru the door using a finicky sensor my scooter might not be large/heavy enough to trigger anyway, to then go halfway around the building to get up the ramp at the front, down the hallway to the elevator whose shaft is about 10ft from where my van is parked a floor below, to get to the 3rd floor where my classroom is about 20ft from the elevator. Instead of just giving me access to entering the elevator from the basement and locomoting no more than 50 ft instead of well over 500 in possibly inclimate weather that might damage my scooter and was the reason I paid EXTRA for an indoor space to begin with. Yeah, my opinion of his mental facilities is great and the self control to not lit into him exhausting my already low reserves. I only kept it in check by reminding myself mentally repeatedly that I'm not 100% sure it's the same guy).

So I was already pretty flustered and not at my mental best when I pulled into the handicapped parking space. I then proceeded to apparently use the power LOCK instead of unlock, locking keys, cell phone, scooter, and most importantly 16 week old BABY in the damn van. I immediately went to the campus emegency phone mounted on the wall by the elevator (10ft from the van) and called campus police for help. Then I sat on the ground next to the van, trying to keep my physical pain and anxiety in check while waiting for the officer to arrive. Luckily the baby had fallen asleep just before we got off the freeway and slept thru the whole thing, he hates his carseat and frequently screams the entire time he's forced to be in it. Well, he slept thru the more than 20min it took the officers (a second arrived, who turned out to be one I knew well and liked from undergrad time 10yrs ago) when they succeeded in getting the door unlocked finally, it set off the car alarm and that woke him (verifying he's at least not totally deaf - been having a few concerns lately that I intend to bring up at his well-baby appointment on Monday). By this point, I had been standing (on concrete no less) for at least twice as long as I can generally handle on a GOOD day so my pain level was at least double what it had been when I left the house AND I could feel a panic attack looming from having had to keep it together while my baby was trapped (I am good in a crisis but as soon as the danger is passed I lose it pretty quickly when I let go of the self control). I sent a message from my phone to instructor and the dean of the program letting them know what happened and why even tho I had made it to the building I wouldn't be making it to the floor my class is on, then called my care provider to tell her I was on my way to her location and in no shape to drive.

I got to the parking lot of the building where she and my 3yr old were, barely holding back tears. As soon as I shifted the van into park, I lost the last bit of my control, and fell forward onto the steering wheel shaking and sobbing from the physical pain & stress. A stranger saw me and came up to make sure I was all right & safe, she gave me a bottle of water she had (which I used to take more pain meds, being JUST with it enough to realize taking them with the coffee I had with me would NOT help fend off the anxiety attack/nervous breakdown), and she stayed with me until my care provider and son came out. I managed to get a grip on my control again before they came out (it took a bit to pull him away from his activity) so I wasn't sobbing like that in front of my toddler at least (not that that does much to offset the shame I feel at having been that out of control in front of a stranger! She really was a lovely human being, people like her happening to be there when need hits makes me believe in guardian spirits or angels or whatever you want to call them. She was black and had a non-native-English-speaker accent, her demeanor reminded me strongly of my German grandmother who passed away when I was 16 though she looked nothing like Granma obviously). When my care provider arrived, I had moved to the back seat and was holding the baby. I had calmed down enough to realize that trying to feed him before the pain meds got more digested & into my blood/milk would be a good plan, so I fed him in the van before heading out.

Essentially, my productive day (at least as far as my grad program goes) ended as a possibility within 30min of the time the 2hr class I was scheduled to be in started, abrupt aborted dispite my best efforts to attend. Yet I'm facing an automatic failing grade because my inability to attend dispite my best efforts is held in equal regard with 'oops I overslept' or 'too hung over to attend class' or 'I screwed up and double-booked myself for an appointment at the same time as class' repeat absences, absences that would indicate a student who places much lower priority on *being there* than I have demonstrated.

They might give me a F for this oppressive Oppression class, but I'm starting to not really give a flying F... What the F do they know about daily, hourly, inescapable even when surrounded by 'my kind and kin' oppression - oppression from one's own body rebelling against one's aspirations? That they use my baby's need of me as the focal point just pours salt in this wound - the irony that the ONE thing my body does properly and naturallly without fuss or real difficulty- gestate, birth, and nourish babies - that's what is the focal point for acts of oppression upon a physically disabled student. That F-ing burns.

This post has taken nearly 12 hours of constantly interrupted time to compose on my cell phone (haven't had the energy to pull my laptop out of my backpack where I put it this morning to take to my non-class for lack of instruction). Sorry if it's a bit of a jumble in parts and phone may have auto-corrected oddly in spots that I missed fixing. Thankful for Blogger's post by email tool filtering out extra stuff since I don't have a data plan, this was sent via MMS

No comments: