Deaf Global Nomad
MyPTSD Pro
Yesterday I met with my advisor for an official dissertation discussion meeting. He approved my topic and added a second perspective as to how to answer the question. At the end my advisor even teased me that my medical leave must not have been much of a leave after reading thousands of articles and outlining a literature review.
This meant I had to drive to campus, walk from the car to the building while dodging traffic, bikers (one even came down a set of stairs), skaters, and people, all of whom do not watch out for a giant service dog let alone the person connected to it. I struggled to communicate, but my advisor was patient as always, and I somehow managed to coherently express my thoughts, ideas, and opinions. He signed off on all the papers.
Even though I was shaking by the time I reached my car and had to practice some calming techniques, I was feeling proud of myself.
This meant I had to drive to campus, walk from the car to the building while dodging traffic, bikers (one even came down a set of stairs), skaters, and people, all of whom do not watch out for a giant service dog let alone the person connected to it. I struggled to communicate, but my advisor was patient as always, and I somehow managed to coherently express my thoughts, ideas, and opinions. He signed off on all the papers.
Even though I was shaking by the time I reached my car and had to practice some calming techniques, I was feeling proud of myself.