7. Taking Notes

One thing I'm really feeling right now is how expensive it is to be disabled. It's annoying because I'm getting stronger quite quickly, so lots of kit is not long term and a bit of a waste. The NHS provided me with everything up to this point like my wheelchair, splints etc. but we've had to get things for the house like a wheelchair ramp, and install a handle on the toilet, and these are things I won't need forever. (We didn't wait on James to supply). I guess we can always donate stuff back to the places where I've stayed when I don't need it anymore, but it feels so eye-watering.

I have enrolled to go back to university next year in Sheffield. I asked the accommodation officer what accessible accommodation they have on offer, and everything they offered is around double the price I paid in first year. (The bare minimum). I have to accept the fact that I will need an ensuite bathroom, but it's hard to know how much space I'll need as I'm hoping I'll have shaken off the wheelchair by then. I know I'll be eligible for grants, but it's still annoying to accept. My friend Anna is planning to live with me, and we are looking for other accommodation opportunities as well, but I'm resigned to the fact that disability costs.

Yesterday I went with Nick, the psychology assistant, to register at the University of Leicester library. I'm going to get a head start on my dissertation and not letting my mind fall fallow. (It's going to be around the topic of the significance of animals in children's media by the way.) Normally, I'd walk, and I did look up how to get there by bus, but it would need a few bus changes, and in the end I just paid for a wheelchair taxi. This was a £12 round trip. Nick was very blasé about the whole thing, but his face fell when we were told we needed ID photos and could get them in the local Morrisons. That would mean 20 minutes of pushing for him. To his relief, they thought the students' union on campus had a photo booth, and, after one wrong turn, we made it. I did a strange strep transfer into the booth and Nick bought me some juice to break my tenner into coins for the £5 required for the machine. We arrived back at the library front desk victorious.

We met my friend Susanna, who just happened to be studying in the library at the time, and we navigated the Dewey Decimal System together to find a book I wanted to look at. (My friend Asli was also there, but was on the phone, being regaled by her melodramatic grandma.) Susanna helped me take photos of the pages I wanted to take notes on, and Nick said I should write them up later. Whether I'll need so much support for the actual diss next year remains to be seen.

I have been practising my writing and I have just about wrestled it between the lines, it's just very drunken spider-y. I've been practising handwriting with complicated words like 'physiotherapist' and 'neuro-psychologist'. Someone reminded me of the 'h' in 'physiotherapist' and off I went. I'd been practicing an A5 page-a-day of this when someone looked over my shoulder and pointed out the 'h' I'd been missing in 'neuro-psychologist'. I can't win.

Someone getting a little too excited.