FRANCAIS (English below)

Il y a une semaine, un accident m’a causé trois fractures, une déchirure ligamentaire et un os déplacé à la cheville. Après l’opération, je suis incapable de marcher ou de travailler pendant au moins 2 à 3 mois. En tant que travailleur autonome, cela signifie aucun revenu, alors que les factures continuent d’arriver.

Décembre est normalement mon mois le plus chargé, et la perte de ce revenu est dévastatrice. Cet automne j’ai dû faire face à la COVID, à un cambriolage et à des factures vétérinaires imprévues, et maintenant cet accident ajoute un nouveau fardeau auquel je ne m’attendais pas.

Demander de l’aide n’est pas facile, mais en ce moment, je n’ai vraiment aucune autre option. Tout soutien—grand ou petit—m’aidera à me concentrer sur ma guérison, à garder mon logement et mon entreprise à flot, et à revenir à ce que j’aime faire. ❤️

ENGLISH

Over a week ago, a serious accident left me with three fractures, a torn ligament, and a displaced bone in my ankle. After surgery, I’m unable to walk or work for at least 2–3 months, and as a self-employed hairstylist, that means no income while bills keep coming.

December is normally my busiest month, and losing it has been devastating. I’ve already faced illness, a break-in, and unexpected vet bills this fall, and now this accident has added another challenge I never expected.

Asking for help isn’t easy, but right now I truly have no other option. Any support—big or small—will help me focus on healing, keep my home and business afloat, and get back to doing what I love. ❤️

Hello everyone,

I never thought I’d ever have to write something like this, but here I am.

A little over a week ago, my life changed in a split second. While preparing the beds for my family—who were visiting to mark the three-year anniversary of my dad’s passing—I stepped on a dryer sheet, slipped, and fell. My ankle snapped underneath me, and I landed with my full weight on it. The pain was immediate and unbearable.

The result: three fractures, a torn ligament, and a displaced bone, followed by emergency surgery. I’ve been told I must stay off my feet for at least six weeks, and realistically, I won’t be able to work for 2–3 months.

For someone like me—who works 60–70 hours a week behind the chair, plus another 10–15 hours preparing the shop, always moving, always taking care of clients and my dog—this sudden stop has been overwhelming. I can barely make it from the couch to the bathroom. My independence disappeared overnight, and the mental and emotional weight of being immobilized is heavy.

And then there’s the financial reality.

November had already been rough: I caught COVID again and missed work, and my dog needed an unexpected and expensive vet visit. Now, this accident has added another six weeks (minimum) of lost income, with more months ahead where I physically cannot work.

As a self-employed hairstylist, I don’t qualify for any sick-leave or disability support programs. But my expenses don’t stop:

• two rents

• two internet bills

• two insurances

• ongoing business costs

• and new medical expenses like a walker and crutches

December is normally my busiest and most profitable month—the month that carries me through the year. I had already invested heavily preparing for it. Losing this entire month is devastating and frightening.

I’m not someone who asks for help easily. I’ve built everything on my own, I work alone, and I’ve always taken pride in standing on my own two feet. But right now, I quite literally can’t stand at all—and I’m terrified of losing everything I’ve worked so hard to build.

This year has already been incredibly difficult: a break-in, illness, and now a severe injury. I’m trying my best to stay strong, but watching my savings disappear while I’m stuck on the couch is deeply humbling and emotionally draining.

I miss my dog terribly—he’s staying with a friend because I can’t physically take care of him the way he deserves. It breaks my heart, but it’s what’s best for him while I recover.

I’m asking for help because I have no other options left.

Any contribution—no matter the amount—would mean more than I can express. Your support is not just financial; it’s a lifeline, a bit of hope, and a reminder that I’m not alone during this extremely difficult moment.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading, sharing, and supporting me as I work toward healing and getting back on my feet—literally and financially. ❤️