This week I was reminded of just how stubborn I can be.
On Thursday, May 5th, I stepped wrong on an uneven sidewalk and went down hard, presumably twisting my ankle. No one saw it and I sat there a good 5 minutes trying to recover. Right there on the sidewalk, the impact of this injury flashed before me, and I sat there and cried.
Tony was the first person I wanted to call, right there with my butt the concrete.
I knew he wouldn’t be there that night to pick up the slack.
I would still have to produce dinner for our kids and when you have one with Celiac disease, drive throughs are not really an option.
Our youngest would still need a ride to practice on time.
Then at the end of the day, I’d have to tuck them into their beds as I hobbled to each room.
I would do all this alone. Like I do all my parenting now but when we’re hurt or sick the awareness of it increases 10-fold.
On Sunday, I went to my in-laws for Mother’s Day and my ankle was still wrapped and swollen. My mother-in-law was having none of my excuses and stayed on me until the next day to go get checked out.
On Monday, I made the appointment and the Dr’s confirmed it was a bad sprain and gave me an awesome air cast boot to wear for a few weeks, to be followed with physical therapy. If my MIL wouldn’t have checked back in on Monday, I would have put this off and probably reinjured myself.
Of course, this is the week that I signed up to bring treats to baseball and soccer. So, there I am with my mom wagon loaded down with individually packaged snacks, a cooler full of Gatorade and a chair. My friends offering to help pull it as I hobble along in my air cast but for some reason, I cannot let them help me. No, I’ve got it. I’m fine. I’ll drag these treats to the field, cook dinner, clean the house, plant the garden and I don’t need anyone.
Why? Why can’t I accept a simple offer to help? Why did my mother-in-law have to push me multiple times to seek medical treatment? Why wouldn’t I let my friend pull the wagon?
I have always been independent, and I don’t like being told I’m not doing something right. I come from a long line of stubborn/you can’t tell me what to do folks, so I come by it naturally. However, I also know people just want to help. They know I can do it, but they want to help me carry whatever burden they can help me with. In general, I only let people help me when they just do it without asking. My neighbor has been mowing my lawn since Tony passed last April. They don’t ask, they just do it and I’m so grateful for them. But if they asked me, I’d probably say no.
By Saturday, I had reflected on my behavior and let people help me on and off the soccer field with my snack cart. It was a small step but it’s a start. Accepting help will probably be a long journey for this stubborn lady. Only thing I can do it try and let people know how hard it is for me to accept help so they know I’m not ungrateful, I’m just stubborn.
