Um, who's taking out my trash?

There's something that happens with being single and living alone, you don't ask for help (or maybe it is just me). It doesn't always mean help isn't needed, but more of the fact that help is not readily available. And you are just forced to figure out a way to solve whatever problem or need is there. This being the reason I still live in an apartment- it is just easier and sometimes I just don't want to figure it out on my own. 

As time has gone on, I have found that asking for help becomes more challenging. In fact, it usually takes an ER visit and a surgery to force me to rely on my surrounding community. Yes, this has now happened more than once while calling Houston home. Three years ago, with all the grace and elegance you can imagine, I tumbled down the stairs during a school fire drill... right in front of my students. Unfortunately for all of you, there is no video of this lovely incident... or so I have been told. This resulted in months of me relying on and living with others. While I knew that my friends were amazing, I found out just how amazing they were during this time. 

With crutches and the inability to put weight on my foot, I had NO choice but to accept the help of those around me. Fast forward three years to this lovely appendectomy and asking for help hasn't been as easy. I don't know if it is because I went into "self-protect, I don't need anyone" mode after 2016 or what. I am not even sure I realized I went into that mode until asking for help has once again become a must. And felt/ feels impossible.

Per doctor's orders (not that I have really liked what they've had to say lately), I am not to lift anything heavier than 10 pounds and can only walk for a month. I chuckled as he said this, kept pushing the limits with my What about... questions, and finally gave in when he said he was happy to take care of my hernia surgery when it happens. Insert eye roll. My next question, Um, what about my groceries? Or my purse? Or my work bag? 10 pounds. The end. No more than that. Insert second eye roll. 

Does he realize I live on the second floor, by myself? How am I going to do this? I thought about asking if I could bill his office for my pizza deliveries because that seems to be a good solution to groceries but I decided he was no longer finding me comical. All I could think was, Fine, thanks for the reminder that I have no one to help and I can't do this alone. (Don't worry, I realize that is a bit whiny but just keepin' it real.) 

And I am not sure I believed him until I split my main incision open while at work, doing absolutely nothing strenuous. Got it. Nothing. Insert amazing team at work to save the day and force me to listen to my body and slow down. I have to ask for help. Funny that I have no problem forcing my help on others but hate asking for it. People are busy. They have plenty of stuff to do other than come to my aid. However, I am one that always says, Letting me help is a blessing for me more than you. I am not the best at listening to my own advice. 

I am hoping I learn this lesson because I am over the ER visits and surgeries for a while, even though I know Cindy loves being my ER-DD ;) and we are building a bank of funny memories with each visit. To my friends and family around me, you are amazing and I am incredibly grateful that you are always more than willing to help... if I would just let you. Really, thank you. Even if I could do it alone, you remind me I don't have to and when I can't do it alone, you are there to let me know I always have help available. 

So, now comes the question which lead to tonight's blog... Um, who's taking out my trash? 

Definitely more than 10 pounds.