People, Life, Safety, Health
Crawling back on the grid after a series of small emergencies:
Remember the poop wall? It happened again. This time, it was so bad, the plumber took one look at the soggy ceiling above my shower, produced a serrated knife from his toolbelt, and carved directly into the drywall like it was a jack-o-lantern. While work was in progress, the landlord had to cut a diagonally corresponding ventilation hole in the upstairs apartment, creating a window between my shower… and the Upstairs Boys’ living room. Luckily, I have a guest bathroom, but using it makes me feel like an asshole for living in a mansion of an apartment and having a “guest bathroom.”
Next, the car accident. One minute I was singing Taylor Swift, and the next, scrambling to push my glasses back on my face after impact. The real terror came after pulling over, when an 8-year-old boy leapt out of the other car. “That was SOOO loud, huh?! Ha!” He pointed to the cracked side of my car and giggled with delight. He was fine, everybody was fine, but his mom, understandably, was pissed. Being the law-abiding, honest, emotional citizen I am, I burst into tears, taking all blame, feeling guilt not only for what happened, but for how much worse it could have been. Now, while waiting for repairs, I have a rental that is ten times fancier than my regular car. Like I do in my giant apartment, I feel guilty for enjoying its luxurious qualities.
Then came the vomit. On Thanksgiving Eve, I threw up all night for no reason, while my two houseguests slept soundly. They found me propped up in a pillow fort the next morning, dehydrated and depressed, heartbroken to cancel our plans to attend our friends’ turkey dinner. But in the true spirit of the holiday, my brother and my bestie stayed by my side all day, patient and caring as I writhed in pain from awful, mysterious cramps. I’ve been to the doctor since, and seem to be fine now, but it doesn’t change the fact that my loved ones ate McDonald’s drive-thru for Thanksgiving. (I had saltines and Sprite.)
And now, as it goes with all disastrous phases, the solutions are coming to light. The hole in the wall is sealed, and I can use my own shower again. My car is in the shop, undergoing major Yaris surgery, and I’m coming to terms with my insurance cost increase. My body is back to its normal health, all guts functioning correctly once again.
Whether natural, industrial, or purely accidental, all these stress-inducing things have only made me more thankful.
I’m thankful for a place to live, with access to not one, but TWO bathrooms. This apartment is too big, and it may have its quirks (poop walls), but it’s mine.
I’m thankful that no one was hurt when two cars crunched together. I’m thankful that lady emerged and shook her angry fist in the air, because it meant she was physically able to do so.
I’m thankful for insurance and healthcare. They’re not perfect systems, but they grant repairs and medicine we can’t perform for ourselves.
I’m thankful for plumbers, landlords, and my dumbass upstairs neighbors. Shoutout to friendly AAA hotline operators, mechanics, rental car agents, doctors, nurses. I’m thankful for friends who can be called upon to drive your guests home while you’re curled in the fetal position waiting for painkillers to kick in.
I’m thankful for my BFF, who made sure I drank water all day. I’m thankful for my brother, who walked to 7-11 when I needed Tylenol. I’m thankful for my mom, who coaches me through Life Stuff. Maybe it’s cliche to say “friends and family” when it’s your turn to say what you’re thankful for, but it’s a legit answer. When everything else is messed up, and you feel like WHY CAN’T LIFE JUST BE EASY AND NORMAL FOR ONCE, it really is people who make it okay again. People matter more than anything.
People, life, safety, health.