Archive for the ‘The Graduate School’ Category

I’m having a bit of a rough day. And while it would take about three hours to give you all the reasons why, there’s one reason I want to share. Because I need to get past it, and I can’t yet.

I was having a conversation with one of my good school friends about our exam tomorrow and how even though one of the instructors had graded her part of the last written test pretty hard, she was actually really reasonable as a practical test grader. It was something that had surprised me and we were just making light conversation. At no point did I mention my grade or say anything further, just that I felt she was really fair and I was surprised.

And as a side note, yes, I did do pretty well on that exam and for the record, I worked my ass off for my grade. I make it a point to NEVER brag about grades, I quietly celebrate or mourn them because I understand how people can be frustrated and upset when they don’t do as well as they wanted to.

So when me friend looked at me today and said, “well, whatever, you only got that good of a grade because they all know your sister” the whole world kind of melted in front of me.

And while it doesn’t really matter, that tester actually doesn’t really know my sister hardly at all. But it doesn’t really matter, because someone that I spend a lot of time with, someone that I think of as a friend, implied that I didn’t deserve the success that I have had. Implied that I’m getting my grades dishonestly and undeservedly.

And it really hurt.

I can dissect the 100 reasons why she said what she did. I know why, I know her well enough and I’d be willing to guess that 99 of those reasons are strictly about her and unrelated to me. But what I know above all else is that she is wrong and I know that she hurt me today.

I have been killing myself for the past month to manage all these exams, papers, projects, all of it. I have given up everything I physically can while still surviving. I am running on fumes and tears at this point. I’m coming down with a cold literally 5 days after finishing the second round of antibiotics for pneumonia. I want nothing more than a break (a spring break, which everyone one of my classmates gets next week, and which I do not get), but that’s not in the cards and I’ve been working really hard to deal with it.

So when a friend tells me that I got a grade not for all the time, energy and effort I put in, but because of my connection to my sister, I am hit all at once with anger, with sadness, with frustration.

I am doing the best that I can, and one of the few things I’ve been clinging to was how successful I’ve been this semester on most of my exams so far. I’ve actually, quietly, been really proud of myself. And I feel like that one little good thing was just swept away. Like all my hard work was devalued in a moment, by someone who is supposed to support me and is supposed to celebrate with me.

There’s no moral to this, there’s no upside. My friend hurt me today. She took the only thing I’ve been clinging to. And now I’m falling, out of control. And I don’t know how to find my way back to solid ground.

On Friday I saw my physical therapist at a last minute appointment because my neck flared up suddenly in a very short period of time. She asked me what had been going on that may have started the flare and I told her about exams and a few life stressors and she looked me in the eye and gave me some ugly news. She said that if I didn’t get my stress under control that my neck would continue to be a problem.

I go back and see her again tomorrow and let’s just say she is not going to be pleased.

The stress kind of snuck up on me. It’s not that I didn’t have stressors, it’s that for a while I’ve been doing a really good job of compartmentalizing. In one compartment I had the stress of being sick for over a month. In another compartment I had the stress of being told I’ll need another brain surgery. In another compartment were my midterms and in another, an upcoming project and an upcoming clinical rotation. I tried to focus on one thing at a time, but before I knew it, the background stress grew to a deafening level and I could hardly focus on any one thing because there were so many others begging for my attention.

For the past week and a half I’ve had a twitch in the muscle just below my right eye. This morning for no apparent reason (except stress), I broke out in hives all over my back. I’ve had an absolutely unrelentingly bad increase in my normal headache for the past 3 days and sleeping has been difficult to come by.

I am slowly, but surely, unraveling. And the most frustrating part is that it’s my own fault.

Yes, there are a lot of things going on and most of them are outside my realm of control. I’ve actually done a pretty decent job staying up to date on most of my classes and studying in advance instead of at the last minute, but I’ve put such a tremendous amount of pressure on myself this semester, that I don’t see how I can possibly succeed.

I made a decision two years ago to go to this program even though my sister was not just a graduate, but a stand out graduate who later came back to teach one of the courses. I knew that there would be added pressure from that, but I felt comforted because I had changed my last name prior to starting and because we really don’t look anything alike. And then the name change didn’t really work and word travelled through the program, and everyone knows I’m her sister and that’s not a bad thing, but it’s harder than it would otherwise be.

My sister is a neuro-focused person. She treats neurologically compromised patients, she’s writing a textbook on neuro treatment techniques. She is important in her field and she is really good at what she does. I’d love to spend a day just watching her treat patients because she is astoundingly good at it. That said, I do not care for neuro. I just don’t, I don’t mind some parts of it, but as someone who has experienced neurological deficits, I don’t think it’s a field I would be happy working in.

This semester is all neuro. Every class is neuro based, neuro focused and our big project involves a neuro patient. It’s a tough semester for everyone, I’m not the only one who is stressed. But somehow, I found a way to make it tougher. Because I feel like I can’t just be okay, I have to be amazing. I fee like if I don’t get As, my teachers (all of who know that I’m my sister’s sister) will think less of me, less of her. My sister’s reputation proceeds me and even though no one has asked me to, I feel like I need to live up to the standards she set. I feel like not doing as well as her makes me a failure.

I’ve created stress where it doesn’t need to be and I feel like I’m drowning in it. I’m forgetting who I am and how important it is for me to be me, for me to just give my best effort and celebrate my victories, however small. I let the expectations, my expectations, grow out of control. I set the bar too high and now I’m somehow surprised that I can’t clear it.

I don’t want to go to physical therapy tomorrow because I don’t want to have to face what I already know. I am making myself sicker, I’m making myself hurt more. I don’t want to face the fact that I am, in many ways, my biggest problem.

Because that’s one I don’t know how to fix.

I had a totally different post planned for tonight, but I got an email earlier this evening and I need to rant, because I am indescribably pissed.

I know you’re all aware that I’m sick. I’ve been coughing for over 4 weeks. It’s been a unique circle of hell for me and I know it has been obtrusive to the learning of others, and I have felt terrible about it. I’ve stayed home several days both for my own health and also so I don’t interrupt my classmates’ learning and it hasn’t made any difference except that I’m now extremely behind in all my classes. I have maintained really good hygiene through the entire experience and seriously, I haven’t gotten ANYONE sick.

And yet, when I got home today there was an email in my school inbox. To make a long story short it, my classmates would like me to stay home until I’m healthy. They believe I am getting them sick and if I won’t stay home, then antibacterial hand gel and cough drops should be my friends.

And I am really fucking angry.

For starters, I’m an adult, I’m in the health care field and if I thought I was contagious, I’d be at home. Because I’m not an idiot and because I actually care about other people besides myself. I have no desire to get anyone else sick and I have been extremely careful to avoid exactly that. At this point, even if this is pertussis, I’m not contagious because I’ve already been through the antibiotics that reduce transmission and the infectious period has already passed. Nevermind that if it is pertussis, the coughing will persist for many more weeks and it’s unreasonable to expect me to stay home that entire time.

But beyond that, how did it become anyone else’s job to tell me how to take care of myself or keep others healthy? If there was something beyond two rounds of antibiotics, steroids and a prescription cough suppressant that I could take to deal with this, I would, hell, I’d buy fucking stock in a miracle cure. I would do anything to stop coughing. And if they could stop being so concerned with themselves for a moment, perhaps they’d realize that I’m doing the very best I can.

Also, I really just wish someone had told me about the wonder of cough drops sooner, because I HAD NO IDEA. I’m sure it would’ve eliminated the 4 week long cough almost immediately. Someone should tell doctors about these, I’m sure it would save them all kinds of time. Hell, I think we can solve the healthcare crisis, let’s just give everyone cough drops and BOOM, they’ll be healthy again.

The part that makes me the most angry is the assumption that I wouldn’t care about anyone else’s health or wellbeing. I excuse myself to cough in the hallway all the time so that I don’t disrupt class and I am pretty quiet about it. I have been using antibacterial hand gel non-stop, I haven’t participated in labs where I’d have to contact anyone besides friends who know exactly what’s going on with me. I’m taking care of myself and I’m not putting them at jeopardy and yet they feel it’s appropriate to tell me whether or not I should be at school.

I’ve recently been disappointed with the conduct of some of my classmates, but this is really beyond what I expected of them, and those expectations were already pretty low.

I really wanted to reply to the email with a simple, mind your own fucking business, but instead I replied, politely but curtly, to let them know that I was not contagious and that I was doing everything I could to not disrupt class. And that furthermore, I was taking care of myself in the way that my physician recommended and that they could shove their cough drops up their asses.

I’ve worked really hard to keep everyone around me healthy, and I am sorry if I’ve disrupted class, but there are times where their input is appropriate and there are times where it isn’t. I’m doing the best that I can and if one of my classmates was sick, my only concern would be for them. I cannot imagine ever telling someone how to take care of themselves or not giving them any credit for trying to keep the rest of us healthy.

But if they want something to worry about, they can have it. I mean, someone who can’t even think to use cough drops seems exactly like the kind of person who would be prone to forgetting how to cover their mouth while coughing. Just sayin’.

So, the long and short of it is that I am sick and buried under school stuff. And therefore, no real blog post tonight. I can only bear to write so many consecutive cat posts. Heh.

But I wrote something on the Curvy Girl Guide that I am proud of and that means a lot to me. So if you haven’t seen it yet, please, take a moment, read this and share your thoughts. I’m hoping to be back with a fresh post here tomorrow if my energy level rises and my stress level drops, but if not, things should be back to normal again on Thursday.

Sheesh, someone really needs to have a talk with my school about how obtrusive classes are to my blog. This is out of control.

So my semester has been over for two days now and my grades just started coming in. To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect exactly. These finals were much tougher than last year and much tougher than any other science ones I’ve taken before this. I was especially apprehensive about looking at my neuroanatomy grade because that exam was just a mental ass kicking, but due to what all of my classmates and I have decided must have been a HUGE curve, I ended up with a B on the final and a B+ in the class. I have 4 of my 6 grades back in all and of them are decent. But just decent.

This semester was unique for me in that I wasn’t on medical leave of absence. Yes, I missed a few days here and there for the really bad headaches and for doctor’s appointments, but my attendance was pretty much normal for the first time in graduate school.

And yet, my grades aren’t better.

Roll your eyes if you want, but I sort of imagined that if I finally made it through a whole semester without a massive crisis, I would be getting, well, As. And yes, I am getting some As, but I’m also still getting multiple B+s. And for the first time in as long as I can remember, I just couldn’t commit myself fully to finals. It wasn’t a lack of desire to succeed or necessarily a lack of motivation, but I just floundered. I can’t focus the way I used to. It’s like my brain is wired differently than it was before this headache started and every time I think I’ve learned the new configuration, it changes again.

I feel like I’m up against a wall. I’m half way through with graduate school now, which is a very, very good feeling, but I feel like I’m starting to sink. I’m not succeeding the way I want to. I’m not excelling at anything. I’m not known as a smart girl, or a motivated girl, I’m the sick one. I’m the one who needs the extra time and help. Always.

I spent a lot of time last week studying structures and functions of the brain and one of the things I learned is that there’s a special area of your brain devoted to sorting out the difference between what you expect to happen and what does. And although we learned it in terms of motion not in terms of psychology or life events, I feel like that area of my brain must be getting so much use. I feel like I spend a huge chunk of my time just reeling from how differently this has all gone.

I am still passionate for this future and this career. I still look forward to finishing the next 17 months of school, but I’m quietly disappointed. I thought I would be a curve setter, instead of a curve lover. I thought I would be the most annoyingly nerdy person, but I’m not. I can barely focus long enough to do the bare minimum. This just isn’t the me I know.

I guess it’s hard to reconcile what I expected would happen in graduate school and the reality of it. I’m proud of what I’ve done, I’m proud of making it through these past 18 months, but if I’m being truly honest, I expected more from myself. I expected better.

And I guess I just need to give my brain a little more time to get used to the the reality, and to let go of the dreamy expectations.

I am dreading tomorrow more than most final exam days, and not because I have a double dose of tests, but because one of them is going to be psychologically difficult.

Tomorrow afternoon is my neuroanatomy lab practical. The test will consist of each of us performing 2 out of about 20 neuro tests on an assigned partner. And they aren’t difficult tests. I’m not worried about getting a low grade. I’m more worried about failing the tests as the patient.

As it stands, I know in advance that at least 4 of the tests will show abnormalities,and that, in and of itself, is tough to face. But then there’s the partner component. Because my partner has been paired up with me, one of the only people in our class who has a screwed up brain.

And my partner is an incredibly nice guy, but man. He got screwed.

I just keep thinking about how he must’ve felt when he saw the schedule, saw that he was assigned to me. That his test won’t be a simple administering and documenting of negative neuro tests like everyone else. But his test is instead going to be one where he has to interpret hand shaking, where he has to interpret upgoing toes on a Babinski, where he has to figure out why I can’t discern which numbers/letters he traces in my hand.

I am dreading tomorrow because for the first time in a while, I feel like a burden. I can manage my own problems, my pain, my emotions. I know how to do that, I’ve gone through the months of training. But when my problems start extending to someone else, it’s different. And I hate it.

I know it probably seems silly to be worried and upset about this, but it’s bad enough to deal with knowing that my brain is abnormal, it’s worse to see that suck spread to someone else who shouldn’t be impacted by it. Someone ho didn’t volunteer for this, who isn’t family, who didn’t enter a relationship knowing that I’m a little broken.

I’m never going to be okay with breaking others. Even if they pretend like the cracks don’t bother them. Even if they put on a happy face and act like it’s all okay.

Because I know it’s not. Because I put on that same happy face and I pretend too.

I have this situation at school that is just eating at me. I’m trying not to over think it or let it bother me too much, but it’s just…I don’t know.

A few weeks ago I got an email from one of my teachers and she asked me if I would come into class a few minutes early so she could put some tape on my back that would cause me to walk like a patient who had a stroke for a gait class and I agreed. They had me walk back and forth across the room several times and my classmates analyzed the gait patterns. When they had finished the gait analysis, they removed the tape and asked me if I’d walk across the room again so they could compare to my normal gait pattern.

Unsurprisingly, the normal gait evaluation showed that I have weakness in the muscles in my hips. I’ve had significant decrease in strength since last year and the multiple weeks of bedrest and it’s something that has been frustrating for me, and it’s also likely largely responsible for the knee issues I was having a few months ago. A week of true bedrest can weaken muscles so much that it takes up to a yea to rebuild strength.

Anyway, one of my classmates, someone I would not consider a friend, finds the fact that my hips are weak HILARIOUS. Over the course of the past few weeks, every time he has seen me he has asked if I’m any stronger. He asks if I’ve been doing exercises. He perpetually asks obnoxious questions about those stupid weak muscles.

And this past week it’s gotten worse. I was studying with friends in our exercise lab and he broke into our conversation to say that maybe I should study that exercise more since it would help my weak muscles. He saw me after a lab where we analyzed our foot pressure spots and asked if my weak muscles had shown up on my foot map, which of course it hadn’t, he was just taking a shot at me. Again.

It’s just…I don’t know. It would be one thing if this guy thought we were friends (and he’s not hitting on me, trust me). It would be one thing if we were having a conversation at the time and he wasn’t just walking up to me to make a snide remark.

But it’s not that.

It feels more malicious. It bothers me. It makes me feel uncomfortable. It makes me feel inferior, weak. Inadequate. And I hate that. I hate that someone has that power over me right now. And that it’s someone that I don’t even like. And it’s an extra struggle because I hate confrontation and this would be a pretty awkward one too.

I just don’t know. I don’t know if he thinks he’s being funny or friendly, or if he is intentionally harassing me. I’m hesitant to throw the word “bullying” onto this situation, but that is increasingly what it feels like. It feels like he’s enjoying putting me down in front of other people. It feels like he’s doing this because making me feel crappy is fun for him.

And I honestly do not know what to do about it.

I noticed when I was cleaning out old drafts a few weeks ago that I started a blog post a year ago. I never finished it, and that’s not normal for me. I don’t have so many extra ideas floating around that I can leave one open. I’m just not that creative.

So I looked to see what I had started to write about.

“About once a day, I toil around with the idea of quitting of school. I think about what I could do for money or for insurance and if I really hated teaching as much as I think I did. I wonder what the process of quitting would go like, if I could just stop going one day and that would be it or if there would need”

And that’s as far as I got.

I remember writing it. And I remember stopping, because I was crying too hard to see the words on the page.

A year ago I was at rock bottom in school. I was ready to quit, I cried every single day. Few of my friends realize how serious I was about quitting. How close I came. How ready I was to walk away and never come back. Or how I actually called the program director to tell her I was done, but I had to leave a message and my husband talked me down before she had time to call me back.

What a difference a year has made.

School is still incredibly tough. I’m still fighting battles on multiple fields and yes, my grades are probably not as good as they could be, but they are good enough. And today I started my second clinical rotation, which though very, very different from the last one, is going to be good and I am certain I’m going to learn a lot.

It’s hard for me to think about last year. It’s hard for me to imagine where I’d be if I had given up, if I had quit and walked away.

But what matters is that I didn’t. I didn’t quit. I didn’t walk away. I’m still giving it every ounce of my strength, my (metaphorical) blood, sweat and more (literal) tears than it probably deserves.

Considering how much things have changed in this year, I can only hope that this next year is even better.

(The really awesome giveaway is up on the review site, go and win yourself something awesome!)

I have been dealt some crap. That’s no secret. I mean, 14 months of headache. That’s a crappy hand of cards. It just is. Plain and simple. I seem to generate bad luck, or crazy coincidences. It’s just one of my many gifts. It is, admittedly, one I’d like to give back.

Last week I wrote about being placed in my upcoming clinical in the same hospital that my grandma died in (because what are the freaking odds of that?). After days of anxiety I finally went and spoke to the director of clinical education. I leveled with him. I told him my fears (he almost immediately determined that I am “one of those people who needs to be in control.” Which apparently is a fact that I may as well tattoo on my arm because apparently I don’t hide my issues very well.) and he listened.

We talked for a half an hour longer than the meeting was scheduled. We talked 20 minutes longer than he even wanted to stay at school. It was Friday afternoon, after all. I cried. I chewed on my fingernails until they were nubs.

And forty five minutes later, a decision had been made. That clinical rotation was not the best thing for me.

I have been placed into a different environment, one that doesn’t make me want to cry. One that isn’t keeping me up late at night. One that doesn’t require me to be on constant anxiety medication.

Because besides my often crazy crappy hands of cards, one of the things I’ve been blessed with is extremely understanding people in my life. With people who care about me, who care about my well being, my safety.

And I’m guessing in a year or two, I won’t remember that this ever happened. I won’t remember the anxiety, the nail biting, the crying.

But I will remember that someone cared. That someone helped me.

Because I’m blessed with a lot of things. And some of them are pretty great.

For my monumental 1,001st post, I’m popping in, oh so briefly, to tell you that I am alive and mostly well-ish. I just happen to be buried underneath a huge pile of studying for tests and learning why procrastination is bad.

Though, seeing as how I’m posting this at 12:24 am, I may still have a ways to go on that whole procrastination lesson.

To entertain you in my absence (which should only be until Tuesday night, I hope), I recommend that you watch these videos (first this, then this), in order. Not at work probably. Unless your work is made of awesome.

You’re welcome.