So I have COVID. This is pretty crappy. I feel pretty crappy. I lose my breath just taking the pups out. Being sick wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t such a miserable way to be. It’s hard to do homework or study when I feel like this. I have intermittent nausea and headaches. Sometimes I’m super hot, at others I feel chilly. I have the dry cough and the burning in my throat. That’s how it started, the scratchy, burning feeling in my throat was the first sign. I have several of the symptoms except loss of scent and a fever to include the bad attitude. I have learned that I am a big, fat baby when it comes to being sick. It’s me.
This is not my semester. Between the VA and their shenanigans, the Army Reserve and it’s abusive relationship, and now being sick, I’ve missed a lot of class and dropped Intermediate Korean. It’s just too much in several ways and I need a break from it. Now, COVID.
I’m thinking though that instead of saying this isn’t my semester and dooming the rest of it, I’m going to say that September was not my month. Tomorrow is October–a new month, a new moon cycle. Goodbye and good riddance September. Ah, tomorrow is also the federal government’s new year! The fiscal year ends tonight. Woohoo! And I hear they’ve continued the budget for 45 days so hopefully my Veterans Readiness Counselor (VRC and no, they aren’t actually mental health counselors) will not have to endure what I am, which is an interruption in her finances impacting her for who-knows-how-long. More on the issues with Veterans Readiness and Employment (VRE) later. In any case, goodbye September and FY 2023!
I found out yesterday that Yale offered me a financial aid scholarship so my tuition for this semester is covered by Yale. Unfortunately, that doesn’t offer the living stipend so I am still going to have to figure out how to pay rent and eat. It’s a good thing I’m a mini-pack rat because I think I can survive without buying too much for a good while. Credit card debt while in school is normal, right?
How’s school going in all this? Well, funny you should ask. This journal is one of my assignments and it’s about the only assignment that I have the energy to do. I’m so far behind now that I don’t know how I’m going to catch up on anything. It’s super overwhelming. I dropped Yale Equestrian Team before it really got started this semester. Focusing on my three classes is my priority. It’s really hard not to feel like a failure when I’m so far behind.
These days, I need to remind myself that it’s one half-step at a time sometimes. “Slow, slow.”
Years ago, I climbed Mount Elbrus in Russia. Two things I never thought I’d do. One, climb one of the seven summits, and two go to Russia. The Seven Summits are the tallest mountains on each continent. I climbed it with two other women veterans to log the first American Women Veterans summit of the mountain. (The list of firsts for that mountain that we came up with was hilarious.)
I wanted to quit so badly. I was tired. I couldn’t breathe and I was so cold. Everything felt pointless. How stupid do you have to be to pay money for that kind of torture? When the exhaustion and frustration gave way to anger, I stopped. I had no idea how I was going to go back down much less finish the climb up.
What’s more, our guide, the famous Nikolai Churney (HE WAS 78 YEARS OLD.) kept repeating “Slow, slow.” With what breath I had in my oxygen-deprived body I yelled back, “I AM going slow.” In fact, I was going so slow that you could hardly call what I was doing climbing or even walking. I was crawling. I wanted to push that old man down the mountain.
At one point, I was done. I couldn’t move. I stopped. Unfortunately, I stopped in the shadow of the mountain and I was so cold. Nikolai pointed to the sunny area ahead and said, “Go.” I could barely move though, so I took a half step. “Yes. Slow, slow.” I heard the old man encourage me.
WHAT?! He wanted me to HALF step?! I took another half step just to be sure, and he repeated his mantra enthusiastically.
And that’s how I got to the top of Mt. Elbrus. One half-step at a time. And that’s how I’ll get through all this bullshit. One damn half-step at a time.
I hope.
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