Yesterday, I went through several moments when I genuinely hated my life. I wanted to tell the universe I surrender! Please! Just stop throwing me curve balls! It seems like when I finally have a good portion of my shit put together, the universe laughs at me and says “here, have some of this.” Cruel universe.
As I was walking to work yesterday morning, I fell in the street. Thankfully it was early enough in the morning that no one was around to see it. I dragged my ass to the curb and sat for a few minutes until I could gather the strength to get up. One knee was banged up, the other knee was scraped and bleeding, my elbow was scraped, both of my palms were scraped from trying to break my fall, and I somehow managed to cut up my thumb and forefinger. What was my main concern? Fuck, I’m going to be late for the bus. I brushed all the dirt off of pants, wiped the blood off of my hands, and hobbled along to the bus stop, which, by the way, I still managed to make on time. I stopped off at Starbucks before work so I could clean myself off.
Somehow, I made it through work. I went to the bathroom often just so I could sit down for a little. I was concerned with my knee more than anything. It was already swelling up and bruising. I was just trying to make it through the work day so I could go home and ice it. I made it home after 2 o’clock, took my sneakers off, and five minutes later, I felt shooting pains in my foot. The top of my foot was so swollen, it looked like half a tennis ball was sitting on it. Fuck. I was so focused on my knee, I didn’t even notice my foot. I laid down in bed for an hour to see if I felt any better, but nothing was changing. Fuck fuck fuck. That’s all that went through my head. This is not the time. I don’t have the time for this. I debated going to the hospital. Not only did I not want to be sitting in the ER forever, but I just kept telling myself I was overreacting. But then I remembered what happened years ago. I fractured my Lisfranc, dealt with the pain instead of going to the doctor, and had a shitload of problems because of it. I didn’t want to go through that again. So I took myself to the ER.
Thankfully the entire visit was two hours, if that. I must say, that is one good thing about that hospital. I told them, my knee looks a whole lot worse, but my foot is what I’m concerned about. They took x-rays of both. The doctor thought for sure something was going to be wrong with my knee just from looking at it, but it’s just a mild sprain. My foot is fucked though. I fractured my midfoot. I’m in a splint up to my knee with crutches until I can see ortho to get a boot/cast. No weight-bearing at all. I cried when the doctor left to get the splint. Why does this shit happen to me?
I can’t not work. I just started. I already missed my first few days because I was in the hospital. I will squeeze a damn sneaker on my foot somehow if I have to. I can’t not work. I need to work. I don’t have time for setbacks. Here I am talking about getting a second job and now I have to figure out how to keep my first one. I’m tired. Can I get a break?