Yes, a sparkly disco cowboy hat (courtesy of Aunty Andrew), and an ABA breastfeeding helpline lanyard complete the outfit.
But this time, it means more. I was less familiar with the materials, but scored slightly higher. And loads of people thought this test was harder, so the mean was a lot lower than the first test, and I got almost two standard deviations above the mean.
No, I don’t understand what that means, but I will after next semester!
With my marks so far, I need to get 85% on the exam for an HD, or 70% for a D. And if I don’t get a distinction, I’m going to drop one unit next semester so that I can concentrate on getting better marks in PSYC102. Between PSYC101 and PSYC102, I need one distinction and one credit in order to be able to transfer to psych with honours.
Correction – I don’t need good results until I get into second year subjects. At the end of second year, if I do well, I can transfer, so that at 3rd year I am doing preparation subjects for Hons. Bloody confusing this stuff, but it means I don’t need to panic if I don’t get 100% on the exam…
‘All of history is a race between education and catastrophe.’
So pertinent right now…
A dear friends mum had surgery to remove a brain tumour today. And when I asked him if he needed someone to be with him, he didn’t say, “no, I’ll be fine”. So I spent the day at the hospital with him and his sister while they waited for the call to tell them that she was ok. The anticipated wait time was 2-3 hours, but it was four hours before the phone rang, and nearly another two before they could go in and see her.
They got 95% of the tumour, but it was malignant, and aggressive. Next up radiation therapy, and possibly chemo.
On the way home from the hospital I learned that one of my uncles has melanoma, and it has spread to one of his lymph nodes.
Please, no more bad news for just a little while…
And here is a picture of a small boy having a massage in a tropical paradise.
I just submitted my Environmental Peace assignment. It was worth 60% of my mark for the unit. No pressure.
My darling friend Dionne read it and gave some great feedback, and I submitted it 40 minutes shy of a whole week late. I did get an extension, so I hope that won’t matter, and whatever the outcome, I am so incredibly relieved to have it over and done with, that at this point I am a bit beyond caring about results.
Tomorrow my focus is going to be on my dear family friend who is having surgery to remove her brain tumour, and after that I need to jam in as much study as I can into the next week. I have an open book quiz to do in the next few days, and then my final psych exam on the 15th.
And after the 15th, I am free as a bird. Until next semester starts…
Just suffering under the weight of a massive head cold, a 3000 word essay on environmental peace that just will not write itself, a dodgy leg that I don’t have time to get x-rayed, a kid that screams his head off if you open the door before he gets there to open it for you, a cousin with melanoma, another cousin with a shattered knee from a motorbike accident, and a dear family friend with a brain tumour.
Just for some light relief…
I am a few months late with the remainder of this terms playgroup fees for the Steiner playgroup we attend, so I transferred some money, and went to an ATM, which promptly ate my card. On the verge of tears, a perfect stranger came up and asked if I was ok. I explained the situation, and he not only took me into the bank to chat with the manager, he also offered to loan me some money so I could buy some lunch. Then five minutes later I was chatting with a lady in the post office (she forgot her glasses, and needed help to read an address), I told her why I was muttering under my breath – and she also offered to loan me money!
In less than 10 minutes, two perfect strangers both offered to help me out. I was struck their kindness, and it really brightened my day. And in a perverse way, thinking about my babies made the whole thing seem trivial. I thought of them, and walked away from the situation knowing that losing access to my bank account is really a minor blip of irritation. I was quite cheerful after that. I know that sounds flippant and strange, but for me it is a big thing to be able to think about my babies without drowning in my own agony of loss, and to be able to start to examine my reactions dispassionately.
I’m still crazy, and probably would have been locked up in the days of a decent mental health budget, but things are getting better.