The Lady Be Tired

by

I mean, all tuckered the fuck out.

Dude.

It was just a shower.

But as a friend retorted when I tried, I tried to turn down the offer of a shower chair, because yo, I ain’t 64, I don’t need no shower chair, I was able to do it, take the shower that is, “ Oh, right! A shower balancing on one foot every seven days seems reasonable”.

It seemed reasonable until she put it that way.

Damn Gina.

I was joking that I needed a nap after the gymnastics.

Gymnastics that did not include shaving my legs.

I mean it was a challenge getting in and out, I cannot imagine how I was going to shave those bad girls.  Not that I didn’t want to, oh, I want to, so much so, but I got soapy and washed my hair and shaved my armpits, and that felt.

OH GOD.

That felt good.

Ah.

I sat on the sink to dry my hair.

Fortunately it’s a shelf unit, not a pedestal sink, and I am tall, I didn’t have to hop up on it, just sort of settle one hip into it and swing the broke back, not really broken, ankle over the edge.

It looks super gross.

I took a closer look at it since crying like a broken doll in the doctor’s office.

“Shh, shh, it’s going to be ok,” the nurse patted my knee, “let’s get you an apple juice, that always makes my patients feel better.”

What am I five?

But the nurse was right, the juice did make me feel better.

I was wishing for another box of juice when I took further inspection of the ankle this morning.

My goodness.

The nurse said, the bruising is yellow and green, that’s good, last stages of the bruise.

Yeah, on that part of the foot she was indicating to, the top part of my foot, it’s not even my ankle and it’s bruised up, yellowish-green, the ankle itself, though, is black and darkly purple, swollen not just on the part that sustained the worst part of the sprain, but also on the other side, it is gross, I am not posting photos anywhere.  I just can’t bring myself to do it.

I mean I document a lot of my life on this blog, but I am loath to go there.

REALLY.

I guess I am a little queasy about it.

I was happy though to get in the shower and glad I had gotten up an hour before the alarm was going off, I had set it early in anticipation of taking the shower.

I was to be whisked away from the homestead for a matinée this afternoon.

When was the last time I went to a matinée?

I was dating J.B. and it was oh gosh, seven years ago?

I don’t recall why I wasn’t working that day, it was a week day too, but I was not, and we went and watched the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe at the AMC Van Ness theater.

Wow.

I had forgotten about that.

I was trying to think in the theater when the last time I had been to the movies was, it’s been awhile just for that and I am still drawing a blank, but I must have gone to one sometime in this past year.

Anyway.

I gave myself extra time and I used it all up.

Just doing the basic stuff is not so basic.

It takes five, six times longer, I get so tired so fast.

I have to sit down and once I am down I want to stay down.

But I got out and my friend was so lovely and sweet, she got me to the bank to deposit a work check from my one day a week gig on Thursdays that, since the accident happened on last Thursday, I had not had the opportunity to cash.

She got me groceries and toiletries and took me to the movies.

I cried in front of her twice and three times when she was in the stores and went to get us coffees.

It is so hard to accept gifts, help, humility, to not be fully self-sufficient, is such a challenge.

But I surrendered.

Frankly, I was just too tired not to.

“I will play this forward, I will,” I said out loud in the car, shifting my booted foot to offset the pressure and the pain of the ankle.

And I will.

And I just have to continue surrendering.

To the financial insecurity.

To the fear.

To the solutions that people put in front of me.

I took a few small actions toward that end today.

I contacted my student loan service and asked for a few months of forbearance on my loan until I am back on my feet.

I checked out the San Francisco Disability web site, but to be honest, I got overwhelmed and shut it down.

Then I said yes to a job, a tiny, teeny, ain’t gonna be much, $10/hr, oh sweet Jesus, yes, let me have seconds on the humility, pass the peas too (the frozen ones draped over my ankle will do just fine) to do some data entry.

But hey, it’s something and I am helping the person out and I know it and it’s what the place can pay me.

I wasn’t looking for the work, but when I was asked, it was mostly because they need a service person and well, he could see I am going to be laid up for a bit, I can do the service.

It’s a pittance and that’s ok.

The service is crucial to the place that is asking and I am willing to help out while I am on the down and out and I am sure there are more lessons to be learned from all of this.

I am being taken care of.

And tomorrow, who knows, maybe I’ll even get a shower chair.

I am no longer above accepting the help.

I would be an idiot not to.

I am many things, but I am not an idiot.

Tired.

Frustrated.

Scared.

But not an idiot.

And underneath all of it, really, I do have faith.

There is a reason for this and there are great gifts to be had, if I will allow myself to accept them, that is.

I accept, gratefully.

I do.

Thank you, everyone, for helping me.

I couldn’t do it without out you.

Believe me, I have tried.

But there’s only so long I can balance on one foot.

 

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