After three weeks of unbearable stress, with me weeping and saying I couldn’t go on, Friday arrived. It takes time to adjust to new situations, and perhaps it’s middle age, or just too many aborted life-changing projects, but I’ve struggled to get used to being a student. During a difficult moment between the stacks a couple of weeks ago I stopped still, recognising that I ached for any kind of familiarity. I shouldn't have said it out loud, I was in the silent section with the would-be engineers. The streets all seem to be uphill, the crowds, the maze of corridors, wearing the right clothes, reading from textbooks, getting on the internet, talking to strangers – these things have felt too big and too much.
Prompted by I know not what, I’ve stuck at the homework. I’ve been reading ahead, learning how to print things off, and visiting the library. Every day last week, Nick has arrived home to find me at the dining room table making notes and muttering about microbiology, inclusion, and asylums. He has a new wife, and I’m not sure how much he likes it. He’s been doing way more cooking.
On Friday morning, I walked up to the University. It didn’t seem quite so far. I found my seminar group, a new mix of students from all four kinds of nursing plus some occupational therapists. One of the young women on my course came up to talk to me, and we sat together with another of our cohort who, although in my group, I hadn’t yet met. We shared small-talk and sweets. All of a sudden there was a feeling of happy belonging.
There were mixer exercises, and I found myself for the first time in weeks, being jovial and open. A little later, I was getting on well with someone on the Adult Nursing course when she remarked, “You’re bubbly aren’t you”. I told her I was actually quite shy. It was nice to be likeable. We were asked to say something unique about ourselves. I went for saying that I was a Richard Herring fan. There was a squeak from the woman next to me. She was a fan too. It was a magic moment, as expected, no one else in the room had even heard of Richard Herring. It made the group laugh, and we embraced, enjoying being a little disruptive, quoting from the Someone Likes Yoghurt show.....'yoghurt pyjama....cat....' You had to be there but trust me, it was delightful.
The seminar was fun, and I felt free to contribute properly. I had held back because of my lack of experience in the field of mental health, but decided to let go of that and talk about my time in social care. In valuing my own skills, I was valued. The Herring induced pixie dust didn’t end. I went off down to the library and emailed two lecturers for more information (I had hitherto been reluctant). Then I got talking to the librarian who offered me all kinds of help. The stairs of the library became shallower under my feet, and people seemed to be smiling at me. Especially the young student who offered to get my tea from the machine.
I think that, as they say of five year old children entering school, ‘she is settled and is beginning to make friends’. About time too, some might say. I’m saying ‘thanks’. Richard Herring you’re my lucky charmer.
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