Dragging Yourself to the Finish Line of Postgraduate Research

By the latter part of the 2019 academic year, I was too ill to climb the stairs in my house, was on extended sick leave from work, had reached the realisation that I could not handle the course, and probably needed to begin the steps necessary to quit.  Secretly, I was still convincing myself that I was probably okay.  I had submitted the assignments needed for the initial modules, but I felt I had dragged them out, and I was fairly sure that my marks were going to reflect that.  In addition to the rare blood disorder that had caused my miscarriages, I also had a number of comorbidities, including a diagnosed of Chronic Hemiplegic Migraines, a type of migraine that resembles a stroke and removes control of one side of your body (the left side for me), including speech, lasting at that time, for me, for around 48 hours at a time.  My first fully confirmed attack left me in the local stroke unit for 5 days, while my family fended for themselves.  As the effects wore off, my partner brought me my watercolours and sketchbook, but the children were too afraid to come to the hospital.

I remember trying to read one of the novels that was also an MA course book.  As I reached the end of the first chapter, I realised I could not remember anything I had just read.  I had a cup of tea, then went back and read the first chapter.  The nurse came and chatted to me, and then I looked down, and realised I could not remember anything I had just read.  I had lunch, which was being brought round the ward, and then went back and read the first chapter.  As I came to the end, frustrated, I realised I could not remember anything that I had read, just as a volunteer carer came around chatting with patients.  He asked me what I was doing, so I told him.  He had been volunteering on the ward for many years, since a stroke had caused him a personal calamity, and had a wealth of information, which turned out to be perfectly accurate.  My memory was impaired, but not permanently.  It does work differently now, but I still absorb the information, as long as I do not attempt to do so too soon after an attack, or take in too much at once.  Reading a chapter of a new book in the phases after a hemiplegic migraine is like waving information cards at a newborn, quite frankly your brain does not care and wants you to go away unless you are going to provide something helpful and reparative, like peace food and sleep.  Despite previous illnesses, this was actually my first real understanding of the importance of rest and distance for physical and mental health, because this was the first time I had literally failed to operate.

I was sent home with confirmation MRI scans, a proposed medication plan that at this point relied more on rescue medication than prevention tactics (this was of course going to escalate), and a continuing lack of understanding of my own fallibility.  What I did do, was prepare to leave the course, with the logical awareness that I might not be able to continue.  The first step was to apply for an extension, so I did that, and began preparations to return to work.  At the same time, I was enjoying my classes, and taking care to reserve the energy to attend every one; I liked the interaction, and my ability to stretch my mind anywhere else (other than when my hands were pain free enough to paint) was very limited.  The stimulation from the classes had been enough to keep my research levels up in gaming, and I had by that time discovered Audible.  While reading for long periods was exhausting, I could listen to a book for a set period of time if it was available as an audible file; there was a limited selection, but some of the academic gaming books, which were newer, were available; oddly enough the medium suits a damaged memory, and things learned are often easier to remember in this form.  The most difficult aspect of researching in this style is remembering where and at what section you have heard something, and finding a quotation again to reference it.  As a result, I found my costs soared, as I often purchased a book and Audible version of the same text consecutively, just so that I could find something I knew was in a single production.  I was also offered DSA support, and supplied with a specialist chair, which helped with the pain in my joints, hands and neck, and supplied software that supported the reading out of some academic texts.  At the same time as the deadline for several separate assignments loomed, I received notification from my doctors that I was looking at around six weeks to return to work.  I knew I would not cope with a working day without practice, so with no real expectation of success, I redesigned my sick days into pretend working ones, and used the assignments as work, progressively making the days longer to combat the exhaustion gradually instead of having to contend with it all at once upon my real return to work.

I was effectively now working as a researcher, and I actually thoroughly enjoyed it.  I was also surprisingly fast given that I had arguably been very inactive for a sustained period, and was expecting very little, but most of my mental acuity had been focused on gaming for some time, and it seemed a natural progression.  I completed all outstanding assignments within the period allowed, with time to spare, and was able to go back and make alterations too.  My assignments were heavily skewed towards games narrative, with a smattering of games industry development, crunching, games as an art form, and YouTube and Twitch celebrity status in gaming; this is the backbone of my portfolio and was developed throughout that first year, but refined during this period.  I never used the extension, as the assignments were submitted, and the second step to leaving is to not submit the assignments in line with the agreed extension, which I actually had not even used.  I forgot about it as I became absorbed with trying to manage at work, and as the medication began causing me problems; the increase in hours as I gradually returned to full time combined with side effects eventually led to relapse that I will get to later on, as this impacted on my final piece.  It was at this point though that I had my first unexpected surprise.  I received my first year marks.  Quite the opposite of my expected poor result, I had achieved the equivalent of a first.  I absolutely was on track for the final year.