Page 9 of Love, In Balance

That’smylife, and I’m happy. Most of the time.

Today is a slow and flexible day.

I’m working on research, whilst also taking some time out to do some individual work.

The first on my list is a quick session with a masters nursing group. I’m scheduled to discuss my experience in A&E as a person with mental health difficulties, plus how my physical difficulties are treated due to being an amputee and having lasting effects from a head injury.

I’ve had tonnes of experience, from the moment I was rushed into accident and emergency after the accident, to right now. A whole fifteen years of hospital visits to look back on. It’s a draining session but extremely rewarding and makes me hope that I can help make the next generation of nurses even better. I’m then finishing off my day by sitting in on a biomechanical engineering seminar.

I decided to do my solo research in this field due to my interests in the particular branch of engineering, plus for future career prospects too, so I’m looking forward to it.

It should be insightful, but a nice, easy going way to end my day.

I head over to the coffee shop on campus and fetch a chamomile tea to ease my nerves and ground me, and a vegan sausage roll to tame the beast growling within my stomach. I spend my break sitting in the cosiest corner of the library, like the true introvert I am, and enjoy some headspace.

I head up to the masters nursing classroom and settle in before discussing my experiences.

The turnout is good, and the Q&A session goes extremely well. I discuss the lack of space in the A&E waiting area for those with mental health struggles, and how the staff treated me too. The biggest chunk of the story I wanted the students to take away from my talk was how I was disregarded by A&E nurses and doctors after going to be seen about extreme headaches and fatigue.

Due to my past, they shrugged it off as being connected to my head injury and assumed it was a symptom with a clear source and explanation. It took all my strength and pleading for them to take more tests, to which they were proved wrong. It had nothing to do with my head injury and everything to do with my extreme iron deficiency, that wouldn’t have been picked up if I’d allowed them to just discharge me based on their assumptions. These storiesneedto be told and more importantly, listened to, in order to make students into better practitioners upon moving into their careers.

I give my positive and negative experiences and also tips on how things could be better in these environments that clearly are not designed for neurodivergent and mentally ill people like me. I hope to make a difference in small doses.

I get some great feedback and seem to motivate the students. So as far as this work goes, I’m pleased.

Sometimes I mess up, trip over my words or get so anxious that I have to contact the team and cancel, but today was a good day. I’m proud of those little achievements.

Whilst I was delivering my discussion, I noticed a tall figure walk past the narrow window of the door, in the hallway. I only saw his face very briefly.

Dark hair ruffled slightly but combed into a smart look. Dark eyes slightly concealed by glasses, and dressed immaculately in a crisp white shirt, only the collar sticking out from a deep brown cosy jumper. Why did he seem so familiar from just a short glance?

He kind of looked like Quin, the bar guy, but I know I’m now being ridiculous.Wishful thinking.

I dismiss these thoughts as I walk through the hallways to my next session.

Going from a member of staff to a regular student, I take a seat closest to the wall in the seminar room, out of the way ofeveryone else since I’m not officially part of this class.

But then again, I’d do this anyway.

I must say, I’m serious about my job as a professional introvert. I keep my head down, arranging my notebook, pens and highlighters, research questions, and drink.

After keeping my mind occupied and my head down whilst everyone else piles into the room and takes their seats, I look up to spot the man I saw during my discussion earlier. He’s the other side of the room so the distance between us is enough to blur the definitions of his face without my glasses on, but when he looks up and straight towards me, I realise exactly who it is.

It’s Quin. The bar guy from New Year’s Eve, who kissed me passionately and then ghosted me.

I wasn’t imagining things. It’s definitely him.

Great. Wonderful. Spiffing! Fucking brilliant.

That must be why we both recognised one another when we first met. We must have seen each other in the halls.

Plus, I’ve only just started sitting in on the bioengineering classes, so perhaps our paths wouldn’t have crossed prior. Maybe he’s new.

Ugh I don’t know!

He looks at me for a few seconds before it becomes evident that he has also realised who I am. His eyes widen, and he tilts his delicious lips into a one-sided smile before looking away. Despite how difficult it is to stop the muscles in my face from reacting to him, Ido notsmile back.

So, not only do I feel like absolute shit from being ghosted, but I now have to share this entire seminar in the same room as said ghost-er (ghost? I don’t know what you call it) and go on with my life knowing he attends the same university as me.

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