Only just more than 40 days until I go home. Is it strange, how entirely I miss it, how lonesome I have become? Granted, my isolation is not perfect; there are friends here, and at home, who have gone out of their way to be kind and supportive, yet this is not enough.
The trouble lies in the opposition.
I have been to the A&E twice since arriving here in London. I am still recovering from the illness which dictated my last visit, and a part of me fears these troubles with my lungs shall not be resolved until I am home. So be it, really, I suppose. It is nothing I am unused to.
Part and parcel with my A&E visits, however, has been an incredible amount of bedrest. As if it were not enough that the days drained me quicker than they did my peers before I was ill, now I find myself exhausted by even the simplest of outings. The classwork is laughably easy, really, but gathering my wits and concentrating a Herculean labor given the realities of my physical health.
Unfortunately, I have found little in the way of practical support from the program. The reality is, it would seem, that Study Abroad programs (as I had long feared) were not set up for accessibility. I will grant that, on some levels, this is not the program’s direct fault. The law holds programs to specific requirements, and even that is partially understandable, but there is no transparency in the program itself, and certainly no deeper consideration for the differing needs of a disabled student.
Yes, all the little tours and talks we are required to attend for class do (on some level) deepen one’s understanding of the city, but these tours are inaccessible to the disabled. There are no breaks. Timeframes are not followed. Certain speeds are required which some students simply cannot maintain. Everything is uphill, and often goes through routes where my cane is useless. Were I in a wheelchair, as my health has sometimes dictated I need be, not a single one of my class outings would have been realistic. The student center itself, given its Victorian nature, is hardly accessible.
I’ll admit it, I’m disappointed. That’s really the mildest word for this emotion, but in this context it suffices. I’m still trying to make the best of it. A week from Thursday, I’ll be in Wales with a friend, which should be exciting. It’s currently fall break, and I’m considering visiting the Tower of London this week. Perhaps a haircut is in order as well, since my bangs have become an annoyance.
I’m trying to make the best of it, really.
L.