And living in general. And my mother. No icon this time I just don’t feel like it. Like most days now I went up to Cynthia’s to eat. My mother was here yesterday, don’t know why she came over and stayed the night, but she did, though she barely spoke to me or even saw me. Most of the time she was on the couch watching TV. This morning she made garlic bread and left the pan on the stove. When I got home from Cynthia’s at around 8 I saw it there and decided to move it because I don’t like things on the stove, particularly heavy things. It’s a messed up old stove. Like if you pull down the oven door too quickly or forcefully the whole thing tips forward, and the top part with the oven dials is separating from the bottom part where the burns are, which is why I don’t like things on it to make it any worse. So I moved it and set it down with some other kitchen stuff, near the crock pot. I didn’t see the crock pots heavy glass lid there, and when I put the pan down the lid fell on to the top of my foot. That’s what started all this. I have accidents all the time, every day actually. This isn’t the first time I’ve smashed a body part. I’ve been lucky so far, at least in the past few years and had no serious injuries, but I always worry, especially when I hurt myself. I’m always alone, and even though I do have free health care provided by the state, if something bad happened I probably wouldn’t get any help. The lids edge landed right where the foot ends and the big toe starts. It hurt like hell (still hurts of course) and I was afraid I might have fractured it. When I’m worried there’s really nothing to do but tell someone just to talk, to get reassurance, and to let them know what happened, just so they know. I didn’t call my mom at first, I called Cynthia. (more…)