The Student Days.

It’s only after I’ve been writing this blog for several months that I’ve come to realise that I’ve never actually discussed what I do on a day-to-day basis. Admittedly, the “day in the life of” trope is somewhat clichéd and overused, and since my daily habits have changed drastically over the past few months, it’s a little difficult to give an accurate representation of what I would deem an ordinary day right now. Therefore, I’ve decided to write what an ordinary day entailed as a disabled university student, and in the future when my routine has settled down, I may be able to tell you what life as a disabled employee is like.

The alarm clicked into life at 7 am, and the sounds of Planet Rock slowly pulled me back to the land of the living. A few minutes later, I would feel the bed springs move underneath me as Jarred hauled himself out of bed, while I remained immersed among the sheets. The kettle was switched on, and I gradually sat myself upright while Jarred prepared breakfast, which he insisted on bringing me while I was in bed (although I didn’t exactly resist). While we eat breakfast, Jarred read the news as if he were in a 1950’s sitcom, but with a futuristic twist; the news was on his phone.

20 minutes, 1 cup of coffee, and a bowl of cereal later, I finally forced myself to leave the warmth of the bed, and wandered over to the medicine cupboard. I’ve got into the habit of swallowing all the pills I have in a morning in one gulp to save time, and very occasionally one would get stuck on my tongue, leaving a bad taste even after I’d brushed my teeth. After a quick wash I got dressed, usually jeans and a sweater or t-shirt, brushed my hair, applied a little make-up if I could be bothered, and pulled on my trainers.

At this point I often sat down at my computer and caught up with all the emails and messages that had accumulated overnight, and then I would nip across to the union to pick up something for lunch.

Lectures often started at 9 am, perhaps 10 am if I was lucky, and the rest of the morning was spent moving between different lecture theatres, writing down my notes as quickly as I could, often compromising on legibility in the process. If I didn’t have lectures in the afternoon, I was meeting with team mates for group projects, meeting with my supervisor for my dissertation, or working in the laboratory. The time often passed quickly while I was kept occupied, and I relished the experience.

By late afternoon I was usually pretty tired, so I would go home, ditch my books and bags on my bed, and head back to the canteen for something hot to eat, reuniting with Jarred in the process. After eating whatever was on offer that night, and catching up on how each other’s days had gone, Jarred and me would return to my apartment, where I would write my lecture notes up neatly. Longer tasks like researching and writing assignments, or things for group work, I would complete at the weekend when I wasn’t as tired.

I had usually finished my work by 8 pm in the evening, when I would have a warm shower, most of which was spent washing my ridiculously thick and frizzy hair, before pulling on the comfiest pyjamas possible, and crashing in front of my favourite YouTube channels alongside Jarred. If we were feeling particularly silly, we would play Snakes and Ladders with all 6 counters that came with the board, adding an element of strategy by having to think about which piece to move to avoid the snakes, and put ourselves in a favourable position for the ladders. By 10 pm I was often yawning every thirty seconds, and so I would have my evening medication (which was too numerous to take in one gulp) and clean my teeth, before crawling back under the sheets. It always takes me quite a while to go to sleep, and my student days were no different as I stared at the digital clock face blinking the seconds away before I had to do it all over again.

Such a routine might sound a little dull, tedious even, and I cannot honestly claim to have enjoyed every single minute of it. However, it is undeniable that every single one of those minutes was worth it, because the rewards were simply too great to be overshadowed by anything.

Author: diaryofadisabledperson

When I was 14, I suffered viral meningitis, and as a result I contracted a disease called Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS), which is sometimes called Myalgic Encephalomyelitis (M.E). 6 years on I use a powered wheelchair to get around, and I'm hoping that this blog will give people an insight into life as a disabled person.

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