One of my favorite things about the City of Pittsburgh is how much green space we have, especially up in the hillier neighborhoods. We have a resident herd of deer we see at least once a week while we’re out walking, a nesting pair of hawks that probably had some babies this year (they were guarding their nest something fierce!), at least a few species of snakes, and new this year, a ton of monarch butterflies!
Here are a few photos I’ve taken throughout the summer. They’re not the highest quality because I used my cell phone, but they give you an idea of the animal friends who live on the hill with us.
Our three bucks. There’s a fourth baby buck hiding just out of frame.
A monarch caterpillar chomping away at the milkweed I planted last year. I saw a monarch flying around my yard a few days ago–maybe it was the same one! I have yet to snag a successful photo of a monarch butterfly, but I’ll keep trying. I’ve also seen some tiger swallowtails and a few smaller species hanging around.
It’s the rare German shepherd dog! Okay, so Jaina isn’t exactly wild life, but how could I not throw in a photo of her?
He’s pretty hard to make out, but this is what I believe to be a baby milk snake! We encountered him on a walk a few days ago. It was already dark, and his camouflage was in full effect, but we had the power of a flash light on our side. Milk snakes are great because they eat insects when they’re young and rodents when they are older. You can’t tell from this photo, but his markings were bright red.
The Adventures of Miss Migraine is an ongoing column about my life with chronic migraine. A version of this post appeared first on my blog of the same name on September 1, 2012. I wanted to re-post this series now, in hopes that it will help anyone getting ready to head off to college for the first time, or going back to college. College is hard enough without migraines! Read part one and part two.
The trouble with migraines in college: A solution
After failing to get recognition or respect for the serious health condition that was affecting my school work, I felt angry, drained, and frustrated. I mentioned my frustrations to my neurologist, and she said to me, quite simply, “Go through your school’s disability services.”
Out loud, I believe I said something like, “Oh, that makes sense, I hadn’t thought of that.”
But internally, my reaction was more along the lines of, “I CAN DO THAT?! I QUALIFY FOR SPECIAL ACCOMMODATIONS?!”
The next day, I approached disability services to get the process started. I happened to know the disability services coordinator well. She was aware of my condition, and when I told her I wanted to apply, she said, “You should have done this much sooner!”
If only I had known I could! The thought never once crossed my mind before my doctor suggested it. None of my other doctors had mentioned the possibility, even when I’d told them about my problems. (In my opinion, that’s another reason to see an actual headache and migraine specialist, because he or she will know and understand how serious the condition actually is, and be able to help you get services and accommodations you may need outside of the doctor’s office.)
The moment my disability paperwork was processed and approved, and letters were delivered to my professors, I felt a relief so powerful I almost cried at work. Now, finally, someone had recognized how much pain I exist in every day. Someone had recognized that what I do is not easy for me to do, because I have to do it through this cloud of pulsing, aching, and often confusion. Someone had recognized that I wasn’t making any of this up, that I wasn’t trying to get out of homework or class, that I simply wanted to get through my classes, learn as much as possible, and not ruin my health in the process.
My particular accommodations call for flexibility with deadlines. That doesn’t mean I can hand work in whenever I feel like. I have to communicate with my professors. I have to tell them what I need, and when I’m not feeling well. I have to be open and honest with myself about what I can and cannot accomplish within a given time period. That’s the most difficult part for me.
I do not like admitting weakness. I do not like asking for help. Nor do I like handing in sloppy work. I’m paying a lot for this degree in writing, and I want to get my money’s worth out of it. That means that when I hand a piece of my writing to one of these talented and skilled people whom I am indirectly paying a large sum of money, I want it to be as good as I can make it, so that they can help me make it better. I get nothing out of handing them a slip-shod story with many problems that I could fix myself given more time.
So I’m learning that asking for help isn’t a weakness, but a sign of self-awareness and strength. I’m not weak at all. I’ve accomplished incredible things with migraine hanging over my life, and I will continue to do so. But there’s simply no reason for me to struggle against disbelief, misunderstanding, and the bad or lazy intentions of students who’ve come before me. So I don’t, and I’m grateful that there’s an easier way.
How do you handle your migraines in college, graduate school, work, or another stressful environment?
The Adventures of Miss Migraine is an ongoing column about my life with chronic migraine. A version of this post appeared first on my blog of the same name on August 29, 2012. I wanted to re-post this series now, in hopes that it will help anyone getting ready to head off to college for the first time, or going back to college. College is hard enough without migraines!Read part one here.
The trouble with migraines in college: Grad school edition
After my undergraduate experience, I didn’t bother approaching any more professors about my migraine problem–this was a mistake, even if it was an understandable one. I had switched my treatment to a local headache clinic and was doing all right. But during my second semester of grad school, my migraines took another turn for the worse, and I once again found myself having trouble keeping up with my three classes, part time job, and one day per week internship.
One professor scheduled the due dates of all of our major class assignments to fall within March. Although I attempted to work ahead, I found that the increasingly severe migraines left me needing an incredible amount of down time to remain functional, and instead of working ahead, I fell slowly behind.
The library at Chatham University, where I attend the MFA in Creative Writing Program. Taken with my cell phone.
I could have and absolutely should have asked sooner, but instead I waited until the day before the due date of my final essay for a class workshop (where every student reads and comments on the draft). My head was pounding and the words weren’t coming out. So I asked for an extra day or two, explaining my situation and offering to provide documentation from my neurologist.
My professor responded in this way: “It is unfair to me and to your classmates to give you an extension. If you need an extra day or two, take it, but I will have to let them know that I gave you extra time because of an illness” (quote approximated).
To say I was livid at the time would be an understatement. It took me most of the night to finish the draft. My husband helped me with some research and rubbed my shoulders and let me cry and rant to him. The next day, my migraine had only worsened with the effort of writing through incredible pain and the lack of sleep.
When my professor asked me how I felt at our next class, I responded with a curt, “Awful.” This professor, unlike my rather heartless professor from undergrad, did believe that I was in serious pain. I imagine that if she didn’t believe my email, she believed my face. Some of the blame for this incident is mine: I never spoke to her in advance about my condition, and I was unwilling to ask for help before it was too late.
But although I believe my professor was trying to be fair to everyone in the class by presenting me the terms she did, her actions made me feel as though I HAD to finish my paper on time or have someone else talk about MY health problems to people I did not know very well on HER terms, not mine. I don’t hide my migraines (obviously, because I’m writing this blog about them), but I have the right to tell people about them how, when, and where I choose.
In retrospect, I should have taken the extra day, gotten some sleep, and asked my professor if I could address my classmates and explain the delay myself. It’s hard to think rationally in the grip of a migraine, though, and that’s another reason why I should have discussed my migraines right at the beginning of the semester.
Thankfully, when I mentioned this incident to my neurologist, she had an excellent solution, which I’ll share next week in “The trouble with migraines in college part 3: A solution.”