“Every day I have a choice; I can sit down and cry, or get up
and laugh. I choose to laugh” –me (as
far as I know)
This is my basic
philosophy, and it generally serves me well.
Some days it’s a difficult one to live by, but I do my best. Aside from the stress level that’s the norm
for someone caring for a child who has severe multiple disabilities, works a
part time job, and living as typical a life as anyone, I’ve entered into a
period of chronic pain. I’m hopeful that
it won’t always be so, but for now it’s been almost 2 months of back/hip/leg
pain, a couple of tests, phone calls, treatments and not sleeping enough. The well of tears that for years I’ve managed
to keep from overflowing daily is running a little high. A few days ago the well overflowed, and
wouldn’t stop—while I was at work, no less!
I’m employed as a
“lunch lady” in our local high school. I
work with 9 other ladies who are mostly easy to work with and we have a lot of
fun as well—a great mix of personalities.
We serve the whole school at the same time, which is a couple of
thousand potential customers. Not
everyone can fit into the lunchroom at the same time so tables are set up in
the gym, and we take 3 serving stations out there every day. For the month of April I was manning the
snack kiosk out there.
There’s a team of
custodians who help us get all our things out to the gym and back, a process
that takes about 10 minutes total to get all three kiosks, snack racks, coolers,
and warmers safely moved out of the way before the students are dismissed from
lunch. The other day it was getting late
and some of the students were dismissed already, and the custodians were short
staffed so we were taking a different route back, going through the rows of
tables and out the back of the gym rather than down the hallway near where we
set up. It’s a bit like a parade when
we’re on the move, the big blue kiosk, me with the snack rack, and someone
behind me with the pretzel warmer, the big plastic pretzel on top quivering. Rushing to keep up and trying to avoid
running into any staff or students on my right, I didn’t realize there was
something dangerous on my left until, in what I imagine was a spectacular
display, the cart stopped, I didn’t, and the momentum took both the cart and me
to the floor with a crash, and a spray of chip bags and cart pieces exploding
around me! One moment I was rushing to
get back and count my inventory and money, the next I was being helped up by
the custodian who had been behind me asking if I was ok as staff and students
picked up the cart and chips. All I
wanted to do was cry. Crazy
emotions! I made it back to the kitchen
(almost) without any tears, but once I got to the coat room and restroom they
flowed. They flowed and flowed and
flowed. No matter how many times I
washed my face, took deep breaths, and gulps of water. I almost had it together, I brought back my
leftovers and all the sudden there was Linda, the mother of 4, asking if I was
ok, saying my pants were ripped, pulling up the leg and telling me I was cut
and needed to go to the nurse. Then
Anna, asking if I wanted her to sew the rip for me. And I cried, every time one of the ladies
asked what happened and was I ok, hugged me, patted me on the back, helped me
with my work, gave me a candy bar. Every kindness made me cry more. Honestly, the whole thing was not worth
crying over, yet even after I got home, I lay on the bed and cried, got Hillary
off the bus and cried. And. I. cried. I
finally managed to stop before bed.
Was it the
medication that I’ve been taking, or being worn down from chronic pain? Well, probably it was the perfect combination
of those things and ignoring what is truly a basic human need—the occasional
good cry. I regularly laugh until I cry,
sometimes I think I should have been named “Silly” instead of “Susan”, but
rarely any more to I allow myself the luxury (yes, LUXURY) of a good cry. It’s an outlet that keeps things on an even
keel for me, able to handle most anything thrown at me. Just as laughing releases tension, so does
crying, whether it’s from a sad movie, a moving story, or out of frustration, crying
acknowledges that not everything is ok, but that’s not a bad thing. Holding it in works in the short term, but
those feelings need to be released so they don’t keep collecting, eventually
overflowing at an inappropriate time (like at work over an accident). So what have I learned from this incident? I
need to slow down a bit and take time to cry occasionally over things that happen,
or things that scare or upset me. A few
moments of tears helps keep those negative things from collecting so much that
a meltdown occurs.
(Oh, and of all those bags of snacks that went everywhere in
the gym that day? Not one was missing.)
