Mr. Brickie is going to need surgery. He will get a plate and pins in his wrist. I have no idea how long recovery time is for something like this. Google (so reliable!) tells me it will be anywhere from two to six months.
So there’s that.
The insurance adjuster called yesterday and let Mr. Brickie know that his first worker’s comp check had been cut and sent. She told him the amount but he worked on Monday so I don’t know if that’s a four day payment or a five day payment. He forgot to ask and doesn’t want to call back. Who am I to argue with a guy with a broken wrist?
So the payment she says is in the mail is $721.30. It’s enough to pay the bills, so I’m not complaining, but it does put us in a tight spot for the savings accounts. For example, the check that’s in the mail needs to go toward the car registration and to pay for both kids to go to summer camp. It was also supposed to have enough left over to pay into the rent savings $240/mo. but with groceries and stuff I’m not sure if that’s possible. We’ll see.
I’ve had to redo the budget for May entirely because the difference between his normal take home (barring rain days – which he had more than a few of in April) and this new reality is a drop of about $800/month.
Just when you think you’re going to start really getting ahead, right? It’s tough not to be angry and bitter about this. I’m trying to focus on the good things like the not dead part of the whole injury thing. I’m happy it’s just a wrist. I’m happy the surgeon feels good about Mr. Brickie getting back to work and how he feels the plate and pins will give him the strength he needs to do his job again. Everyone is very hopeful.
I just want to take a time-out from being responsible and thoughtful and punch a pillow and scream and just be scared for a minute. I can’t because the either the kids are around or Mr. Brickie is around. He feels so bad this happened (even though accidents happen to everyone and he honest to goodness didn’t do anything wrong) if I were to just let go and feel the scary feelings it would make him feel beyond awful. He doesn’t deserve that.
Yesterday on our way home from the doctor I started to cry in the car. He just looked all forlorn and started at his lap. That made me feel even worse so i started crying harder and he got a tissue out of my purse for me and just looked so damn sad I wanted to never cry again in my whole life because now my crying was making him feel like that. It’s just a mess.
So I’m forecasting the budget with the new weekly number (I hope it’s weekly. If it’s bi-weekly we are about to be in a world of hurt. I’m sure he said weekly.) and the one thought that keeps going through my head is, “Thank goodness we were living below his paycheck.” All the extra money from his promotion was going toward credit card debt payments. It’s a shame we bought a car, though, isn’t it? Ah well, at least the payment is only $285 and not the previous payment we had on the Mazda of $495.
I’ve been doing a pretty good job of not going back and judging past decisions. It wouldn’t do any good. It was an accident that could not be predicted by any budget.
Right now we are in stasis. I only called one family member about this yesterday. I only posted about it on FB because he did and I didn’t want to seem weird by not saying anything.
When faced with a real crisis I tend to go into hiding. I don’t want to talk about it until I have a plan for it. I want to curl up by myself in a dark room and figure out the puzzle so when I do talk to people it’s not just, “A bad thing happened.” I want the conversation to be, “A bad thing happened and here is how we are dealing with that bad thing.”
Lucky for me a friend offered to come with me on Thursday to wait while Mr. Brickie is in surgery. Until she offered I assumed I would be there alone with a book. I was so happy she offered to be there and bring coffee but still I almost said no because I didn’t want to be a bother.
I told that voice in my head to shut up and I said, “That would be great, thank you so much.”
I need to say yes more often.