Week 3, Entry 1
Jun. 6th, 2022 10:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
goatgodschildToday was my first official day volunteering at the cat shelter. I had a really good time, and got through where I needed to clean quickly and efficiently. With our supervisor, myself, and at least one more volunteer adding into the usual group, we were able to finish our work and focus on fussing over the kitties much quicker than we had expected.
Getting on the bus, I went to the transit center to buy my next set of bus tickets. The whole time, I didn't short out. In fact, I haven't shorted out in days, and I haven't had to force myself very much for a few days. It's like square breathing, you can eventually settle into it without thinking about it.
On the bus home, there was a woman in a wheelchair trying to get to the emergency room. She was burned very badly and had trouble speaking, which turned to be due to epilepsy. Since the wheelchair was of the old sort, the kind with no steering or brakes, and she didn't know where the emergency room was, I offered to help her get there. Also, the way to the emergency room has a nasty grade that's almost impossible to get up if you don't have a proper wheelchair, and she didn't have anyone to help push.
I was glad I could help her up the grade and to the emergency room proper.
During my first class, my feet started having that burning feeling, but it wouldn't leave even after class. I started to panic, ricocheting through emotions and beginning to panic for no discernible reason. Because I was also beginning to have trouble supporting myself, I decided to excuse myself and go home before I did something I'd regret. I didn't short out, luckily, and I am very proud of that.
I penguin-walked home and was calm enough to speak clearly by the time I got there.
That was three hours ago. I've had a shower, dinner, and 2.5 episodes of X-Files, but my feet haven't stopped being in pain. I'll have to buy Epsom salts or somesuch, I suppose.
Getting on the bus, I went to the transit center to buy my next set of bus tickets. The whole time, I didn't short out. In fact, I haven't shorted out in days, and I haven't had to force myself very much for a few days. It's like square breathing, you can eventually settle into it without thinking about it.
On the bus home, there was a woman in a wheelchair trying to get to the emergency room. She was burned very badly and had trouble speaking, which turned to be due to epilepsy. Since the wheelchair was of the old sort, the kind with no steering or brakes, and she didn't know where the emergency room was, I offered to help her get there. Also, the way to the emergency room has a nasty grade that's almost impossible to get up if you don't have a proper wheelchair, and she didn't have anyone to help push.
I was glad I could help her up the grade and to the emergency room proper.
During my first class, my feet started having that burning feeling, but it wouldn't leave even after class. I started to panic, ricocheting through emotions and beginning to panic for no discernible reason. Because I was also beginning to have trouble supporting myself, I decided to excuse myself and go home before I did something I'd regret. I didn't short out, luckily, and I am very proud of that.
I penguin-walked home and was calm enough to speak clearly by the time I got there.
That was three hours ago. I've had a shower, dinner, and 2.5 episodes of X-Files, but my feet haven't stopped being in pain. I'll have to buy Epsom salts or somesuch, I suppose.
