---Preface---
If you do not have the time (or the desire) to read through this entire story, or wish to get to the point quickly, or just wanna read all this later, please skip down to the triple-asterisk (say that five times fast) toward the bottom of this post and read from there. Thanks for any time you spend reading this. And thanks for the support.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was a week ago on a nice summer night in lovely Greenpoint, Brooklyn, New York.
(though not night-time, this is part of lovely Greenpoint; the view of the park from my rooftop)
(view from the other side of my backporch/ rooftop)
I was riding my trusty green bike down Nassau Avenue, the street where I live.
(trusty green bike)
I reached the end of McCarren Park and pedaled a bit faster, knowing I wasn't far from home, and knowing I'd soon lock up my bike for the night and head upstairs to bed, tired after a long night.
Well, at least that's the way it normally goes.....
However this night (and my bike) took an unexpected turn when we met THIS guy,
(Nasty Pot-hole)
who viciously grabbed my front wheel and sent him careening sideways onto the pavement, taking me down with him.
Immediately, the super-nice and valiant employees at Rachel's Corner
(Rachel's Corner, my favorite late-night bodega, where, unfortunately, the Nasty Pot-hole has apparently been hanging out lately.)
ran outside and peeled my bike off of me, scooped me up, sat me on the curb, and put a bag of ice on my rapidly-swelling shoulder.
Surveying the situation, they asked if I thought they needed to call an ambulance. Through my tears, I told them that no, I didn't want them to, seeing as I had no insurance (and mostly because in conversation with a friend a few days prior, she had informed me of how insanely expensive an ambulance ride actually is.)
I thanked them for the ice and, with severe pain shooting up and down my right arm, walked the few short blocks home. (Very un-funny cosmic joke that accidents so often happen so close to home.)
My amazingly caring and brilliant roomate Carly, sleepily awoke, doctored all my cuts and scrapes,
(now mostly-healed cuts and scrapes)
replaced my melting ice, handed me a box of Kleenex, and tried to get me to explain what had happened. I told her that I thought I had just dislocated my shoulder and that I needed to go to bed and see what it looked like in the morning. She later told me she thought I must've been in shock. I think she was right, considering I figured I could just sleep it off.
Early the next morning, I awoke and immediately vomited from the pain. I tried to get up to go to the bathroom, but instead had to sit down on the floor, sweating like mad. Clenching my arm and rolling onto my side, I finally stood and walked to the mirror, and for the first time really saw what had happened....my right arm was hanging an odd couple of inches below where it should, and a massive bump was protruding from my shoulder.
So I went to the doctor.
The first woman I saw at EmergeCare took some X-rays and told me that it was not a dislocation, but a "shoulder separation" and that she was sending me on to an orthopedic specialist who could tell me exactly what was going on and whether or not I needed.....surgery. What I thought was going to be a simple pop-your-shoulder-back-into-place type of situation now warranted the possibility of surgery. Oi.
(X-rays)
So I headed to the surgeon's office (after so kindly receiving a prescription for painkillers, muscle-relaxers, and a Xanax on my way out for good measure.....thank goodness.)
I finally saw the surgeon, gave him my X-rays, and as soon as he looked at them, looked back at me and said, "And you're telling me you went to sleep after this happened?"
(a week after, out for my birthday, all immobilizing-slinged-up.....that bump on the left is the angry remaining half of my collarbone)
***And so, very very long story short (thank you for your patience), he told me I need a very serious and delicate surgery, requiring a steel plate for my collarbone, which I broke in half, and donor tissue to re-attach all the ligaments in my shoulder, which I ripped.
And this is where YOU come in, if you can; and in return, receive every ounce of thanks and gratitude I've got in me......and you get that whether you contribute in dollars or spirit. Really. Both are very helpful right now.
The thing is, I have no health insurance. (Truthfully, a predicament I have found myself in, between the indestructibility of youth and the accountability of adulthood.)
I really need some help. Mt. Sinai gave me an estimate in the ballpark of $20,000.....a sum that feels so impossible, it seems completely out of reach. And that's not including the rent I need to pay and the food I still need to eat, or the money lost from the job that I can't work while I'm preparing for, undergoing, and recovering from this surgery. Not to mention the rehabilitation process. Oi. It's all pretty overwhelming, which has led me to this humbling platform. Quite simply, I could really use whatever you can give.
I'm posting this on my birthday. I thought, perhaps, if you were going to buy me a drink or a meal or a present or a piece of cake, you could put that generosity toward this surgery instead. It would be the best gift you could give me.
THANK YOU.
"I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder."
--G.K. Chesterton
---very special thanks to Mama, Andy Bean, Carly Battams, Jim and Theresa Bean, Katie and Kevin Ten Eyck, Timothy Palma, and Brandi Wiginton. Thanks guys.
