Day Three Grade Report

[zoethe]

When I arrived at work yesterday morning Crista, our departmental assistant*, asked how I was doing. I could barely get out the words, "not well" because I was fighting tears. Crista, being a practical soul, prescribed mocha and fetched me one.

Without that small kindness, I'm not sure I could have made it through the day.

I hurt all day yesterday. I got a lot done at work, but it was in the continual presence of chronic discomfort. By the time I got myself loaded into the car for school, I was back to the edge of tears. The Motrin helped, I guess, but didn't really stave off the pain. I avoided talking to people at school because I knew that the question How are you doing? would set off the waterworks again. Got through Torts, moved on to Civ Pro, where the prof pointed out that our first written assignment is due Monday. Tears threatened again. Survived that, got home. Another one bites the dust.

I am irritated with myself for not getting better, but the reality is that I have no energy left for recovery, and that's slowing the pace. I guess the measure of progress is going to be how late into the week I can get before falling apart. Only Tuesday this week, maybe Wednesday next. I feel tumbled and ragged, like a frayed bit of cloth on the side of a highway, crushed.

Got about 4 hours of sleep last night, with the discomfort and the waking. Back to work now. Much homework, as always.

*What's the difference between a departmental assistant and a secretary? About $7,000 a year.

Comments

*sigh*

[lyssabard.livejournal.com]

I wish I had some concrete advice to help you rest--or better drugs. Any chance of looking into the latter I know it doesn't seem very comforting when all one can do is go on. But I admire your strength and perseverance very much.

As I said, I just wish I knew how to help

Do hugs help?

*HUGS*


Just me.