When it Rains, it Pours

It did not exactly come as a surprise when I was let go from my temporary, Covid-related position on 10/11/2022--in fact, it was a bit of a relief, in that I was finding it difficult to take sufficient time off to attend to all aspects of my degenerative spinal condition, called ankylosing spondylitis--I had quit going to the chiropractor; to physical therapy; to osteopathic manipulation therapy… not to mention such "luxuries" as seeing my therapist and attending neural feedback training. What DID come as a surprise, however, was the difficulty I would encounter--despite a widely-varied skill set and fervent application submission--in securing a new remote position.

In the interim, my unemployment was denied because I applied for partial disability; my disability application is a drawn-out process because I haven't been unemployed for a sufficient period of time. No one seems to have an answer on what a single mom of "1.64" is supposed to do in situations such as these.

So, I've been doing all that I can; I've been door-dashing with a vengeance; I've been (much to my doctors' dismay) cleaning AirBnBs; with the help of friends and families, I've been getting by for the boys, bit by bit.

But now, it's less than two weeks before Christmas. On Monday, Ari was diagnosed with RSV, (despite "our" participation in the pregnancy RSV vaccine trial--Le sigh ) and today, Niko was diagnosed with RSV AND Strep. It's sort of halted my "hustle" in its tracks. Although I've sufficiently scraped by for the past two months, we are to leave for Maine on Wednesday to spend Christmas with my family, the entirety of which is 700 miles away, and some of whom have never met Ari, who is now creeping up on 13 months. I am simply out of time to scramble for the funds for my cell phone bill, due the 30th, and rent, due the first. I cannot, in good conscience, drag my two sick boys around town, delivering people's fast food.

If you are in a position to provide assistance, I would greatly appreciate it. It is my sincere hope to be able to repay the kindness someday. Assuredly, I would not allow any generosity to inspire me to rest on my laurels; I will continue to fight with every fiber of my being to provide for my boys and find gainful employment that allows me to tend to my health.

If you cannot donate, share; if you do not want to share, pray (or whatever version thereof that yours resembles.)

Thank you for loving us. Assuredly, these soulful little boys love you right back. Me, too.