Crying Out Loud

When I woke up Tuesday morning, I forgot for a split second that I had an injured ankle. So I swung my feet over my bed and as they hit the cold tile floor I remembered. And then emitted a shriek that could have summoned the dogs from around a hundred mile radius. Just a note: a sprained ankle/foot hitting the floor will send jolts of searing pain through your entire body.

At least it woke me up.

Tuesday we had to pack up and bid adeiu to Dalkeith Palace. While I loved the place, Monday night was very cold. Every girl in my room had at least three or four blankets piled on her bed to keep warm. I was no exception to that. Large houses built in the 1800s will be drafty. At least there was a large cabinet filled to the brim with blankets for our own personal use. That was definitely our saving grace.

Before we left Becky and I spent a last couple of minutes in the "Narnia Room." The class nicknamed it that because it's a large ballroom with a few large cabinets. These cabinets could seriously house a person, they're that spacious. So of course we piled ourselves into the cabinets and pretended we were the lucky orphans who discovered a magical land.

Once we left, we headed towards Alnwick. But before we got there, we stopped at Holy Island, thus named because of a monastery that used to be housed there. The Island is unique because it's only an island when the tide comes in. From my understanding it only comes in once or twice a day, but when it does it covers the entire road leading to the island and if a person's car is on the road it will be rusty heap by the time the tide goes back out.

Once the bus rolled up to the island, my ankle was throbbing. I began to get concerned because I knew that it was a decent walk to the monastery and around the island. What was I going to do? I didn't want to just sit at a coffee shop all day while my classmates ate crab sandwiches and had photo shoots around the island. Plus I was frustrated because of the lack of concern from the trip advisors. While one knew I'd sprained the ankle, there was no follow-up or questions asked post-Glasgow. That is no way to treat a student.

After I hobbled off the plane I spoke to both advisors. (Read: I began bawling like a baby. The ankle really effin' HURT!) Here's how the first part of the conversation went...

Me: I'm concerned about the walk. How far is the monastery?
Mean advisor: *snorts and rolls eyes* OH. It's FAR. It's definitely a WALK.
Me: *begins to tear up out of pain and frustration*

A note to all budding professionals or people in the field of student affairs: don't act like that. Even if you dislike somebody, try to show a little compassion or at least patience. And definitely don't snort,roll your eyes or try to dismiss somebody when they have a legitimate question. Unless you want to make somebody cry. In that case? Mission accomplished, mean professor.

To be fair, the kinder advisor apologized and we had a good heart-to-heart after that. I communicated my needs to her and she listened and took them to heart. (And to note: the mean advisor felt so bad about my crying that she made a personal trip into town to get me an ace bandage. So she gets a couple of points in her direction for doing that.)