I fell this morning.
It’s mind-boggling to realize how much the livelihood and wellbeing of my family is in constant flux. A few short months ago, I landed a job. In the year prior, I had worked primarily contract work, balancing deliveries and substitute teaching gigs with the full-time caregiving job required by Miss Julie. When summer came, the subbing stopped (of course) and then Julie passed away, at which point most of the money dried up. We were heavily reliant on Miss Jonikka’s salary, complimented by Miss Julie’s decision to pay the rent and some of the bills months in advance.
At the start of the school year, I took a full-time position at the high school, and it’s fairly undemanding work. I sit with students much of the day and can focus a modicum of attention on my schoolwork and game prep. For about a month, we were in a good place. Then Jonikka’s job went away.
My job isn’t sufficient to pay the bills. My family won’t even have any kind of Christmas much beyond the gift of keeping the heat on (I wish that were hyperbole). I don’t have the time and energy to pick up too many hours doing deliveries on the side, and it doesn’t pay much anyway.
All of which is to say… when I fell this morning, my first thought was: “I have to get to work.” Not because of a general sense of obligation, but because I’m deathly afraid of losing a day’s salary. (This position didn’t afford me any paid leave until after the first of the year.) And when I say I fell… I mean, I tripped on a dog chain while going down the steps and my entire body landed face first on the concrete.
I am injured, but unsure of the extent. As a diabetic I am acutely aware of the dangers of infection, particularly in my extremities, so after I managed to catch my breath and get to my feet (fortunately Gabriel heard me shout and came running outside to assist), I ventured back inside to assess the damage to my legs, which felt well and truly scraped up.
And they were. Fortunately we also inherited Julie’s stash of first aid paraphernalia, and Jonikka helped me use gauze and bandaging to cover the worst of it. Then I quickly departed.
I was late to work, but I still made it in before the bell so no one is really concerned about that. I sit here now, two hours later, and I am ill at ease. Breathing hurts a bit. I could see no bruising when I looked at my ribs earlier, but it feels like one big bruise on the inside. I don’t think any ribs are cracked, but I admit that I can’t be sure.
But I feel helpless, and I’m not used to that. And I know so many struggle with less. I still have a job, and we will still have our heat on at Christmas, and while I will definitely have to sacrifice paying some of the bills to ensure that we are fed, my household will not starve.
We’re also unlikely to catch Avatar in the theater this month… so if anyone wants to get us the gift of movie passes, I won’t so no.
I would love to be pithy with my closing here – particularly as I’m not sure I said anything terribly profound – but I think pithiness is on a higher level of the pyramid. If you know, you know.