I’m Fine.

        It’s 10:30pm, and I’m not feeling well. I should be in bed right now but, I’m not. I had an okay day, I guess. Went to the grocery store with my grandma, got some things we need for the rest of the week, and then I made ribs on the grill for dinner. It wasn’t particularly productive, and this week’s laundry is still sitting in the laundry basket behind me but, that’s okay.

        You see, when most people ask me how I’m doing, that right there is my go-to. If you’re wondering what the hell I’m talking about, please go back and read the title. “I’m fine.” And the funny thing is, most of the time, I’m not fine. In fact, I’m almost never fine. But that’s not what they want to hear. They don’t want to hear about how I feel like I’m in way the fuck over my head between bills, and work, and don’t even get me started on my leg.

        No. Really, please don’t.

        I post about it quite a bit. Everything something new happens really, and most of that is because when I post about my leg, and everything that goes with it, it’s in a controlled environment. I’m the one in charge. I’m holding the reigns. It isn’t some random drunk or gambler wandering into my work, spotting the fracture boot, and in their rude and demanding way saying “what happened to your foot.”

Because it’s become somewhat taboo. To the point where I want to put a sign on it that simply says “don’t ask.” I want to start telling people something more dramatic like… I was attacked by a shark… or something. Is it true? No. But, you know what? I don’t care! Because right now, if someone utters the words “all that just because you fell down the stairs” or accuses me of milking it for attention one more time in my general direction, I will yeet myself off of a fucking skyscraper.

I’m sick of it. Really, I am. Because, yes Susan, while you may be able to fall down the stairs and walk away with a few scrapes and bruises, I cannot. When I fall down the stairs, I end up with fractured bones, torn ligaments, and foreign objects implanted into my personhood and chronic pain for the rest of my life.

Being healthy is a privilege. It is not afforded to everyone.

And honestly? I cannot stress that enough. BEING. HEALTHY. IS. A. PRIVILEGE. Don’t believe me? That’s fine, let me explain. You wouldn’t go up to someone with lung cancer and make a shitty comment like “all that just because you smoked a few cigarettes?” Would you? Because, you, the average person could get asked out onto a date with a great guy. For the sake of the argument, he asks you to go to the zoo or the aquarium with himself and his son. As a healthy person, you could probably just stick a tube of sunscreen and your wallet into your purse and be off. -obviously with Covid, mask mandates and such, a mask too but, that’s kind of a given right now in our current political climate- And if you’re that kind of person, oh, how I envy you.

Because, I, an unhealthy person cannot.

If I wanted to go out on the date with the handsome guy, my first thought is to check the last time I had my allergy shots (just in case) and then I’d be checking the weather. How hot is it going to be? Am I allowed to carry my own water bottle, or do I need to buy one there? Because if I have to buy one, that means carrying DripDrops or Liquid IV packets along in my purse and mixing it on the go so I don’t become dehydrated and get sick. Zoo. Okay, that means Epi-Pens and benedryl in case of bees. Aquarium? Not so much. Sunscreen, of course. I’m one of those “easily defeated by UV rays” kinds of people, and I burn like a fried egg in a hot pan. I should also probably bring my whole pocket of medications, and an ankle wrap at the absolute least.

(That is to say, I should be wearing my fracture boot but, I’m stubborn. I should be staying off the ankle as a whole because 5-minutes of walking turns it into an angry, red, and swollen mess but, that’s beside the point. This is just an example after all. So, who cares if I fudge on some of the details?)

Because what if I fall?  Or my ankle gives out- or it decides that it wants to dislocate? Or one of the very, very many other things that can very well go wrong when it comes to what should be just a simple date with somebody I like? My point is, for some people, it’s as brainless and easy as grabbing their stuff and walking out the door but, for those of us who weren’t blessed with the gift of good health, it’s rough out there! I mean, honestly, can you believe that I spoke with someone earlier in the week who has never, not once in their adult life had to have an IV put in? They’d never broken a bone, or had an X-ray, or a lot of other procedures done before. Now, that to me is crazy because, I can tell you every time in this past year, the year before that, and even the one before that in which I have had to have an IV invading my personal space.

        And now, here we are, a month and a handful of days after having my spinal cord stimulator placed. -and while I do plan to touch on that a bit more at a later date, I’m only bringing it up now as an example of one of the procedures I’ve had to go through in this past year.

        The scary thing is- that’s just on physical health alone. It doesn’t even touch on, or come near the mental, or emotional side of things. So, my point here, is to check in on your “strong” friends. Even on your not so strong friends. Just check in on your people- even if it’s just a quick “hi and bye” phone call. A quick text even.

        You might think they’re out there doing fine but honestly? They’re struggling. I know Covid swooped in and kicked everybody’s ass, even if we aren’t all complaining about it. I know this past year- going on two-years now has been hard on everyone. People have lost jobs, family, income, homes, and more but, if we don’t band together and rise up by the time the smoke clears, we’re going to look around, and be surrounded by corpses.

        Stay safe. Eat food. Drink water and remember that your value and your worth is not measured by how much you do, or what you can accomplish. The things that are warm and comfortable for you is someone else’s boiling. A light breeze for you, might be someone else’s frostbite. Try to be a little more understanding where you can be and remember that it only takes a couple of seconds to reach out to someone. It doesn’t have to be a conversation- hell, it could just be that you’re sitting down to take a break, run across a stupid video on TikTok, and you send it to someone because it made you think of them. Because sometimes, on the hard days, that stupid video tells someone who’s struggling and not talking about it, that you’re thinking about them. That someone out there is thinking about them, and that they still matter.

        Just one tiny act of kindness could be the reason someone chooses to stay.

        -Sky