“I
got knocked up in high school,” the pretty young brunette explains to me as she
jiggles a happy toddler on her hip.
We
are in the kitchen of Shannon’s* small two bedroom
apartment. She is standing and I am sitting at her cluttered dinette table. The
apartment is clean but dingy, her furniture functional but well worn. Although
only ten o’clock in the morning it is
already over 80 humid degrees out. A creaky fan pushes hot air around. Summers
are stifling hot where she lives but she doesn’t have central air conditioning,
just a small wall unit stuck in a window in the living room. The cold air
wafting out does little to combat the heat or reach the other rooms. A trail of
sweat trickles from my brow.
“Graduated
when I was seventeen years-old and seven months pregnant. We got married a
month later, the day after I turned eighteen. That was fun,” she says
sarcastically. “I had twins. Do you have any idea what having twins at eighteen
is like? Twin boys?” she puffs in frustration.
The
boys race past shouting pow pow with
fake laser light guns clicking as they shoot each other but don’t die. Shannon
hollers at them to stop or else. They keep on, impervious to her warning.
“Darren*
went to work and I learned how to be a housewife. He does construction. His
daddy does construction. Well that lasted a couple of years. Then he split.
Left me for another girl who had no kids.” Her tongue tisks at the irony. “Deadbeat
defined,” she sums up with a sick smile.
Shannon
interrupts herself to yell at the boys. They are sliding around in cowboy
pajamas ignoring her. The little girl on her side grabs fistfuls of her long hair,
causing the young mother to wince and struggle to untangle the baby’s plump sticky
fingers before her other hand snakes around and pulls more.
“So
I divorced him, sued for child support and he quits his job. Asshole. I am sure
he is working under the table somewhere. Mind you I am barely 20 years-old. I
had no idea what the hell I was doing. I took the twins and moved back into my
parents house. My dad would hardly look at me, he told me Darren was going to
leave me when I got pregnant and that I should have an abortion. Fuck him.” Shannon’s
eyes flash anger.
The
two boys start chanting fuck him, fuck
him in unison as they run around the room laughing wildly. For some reason
my mind conjures images of the final scenes of Lord Of The Flies. Shannon sets the little
girl in her arms down on the floor and cringes as she stands back up. I play a
few rounds of peek-a-boo and the baby laughs. Shannon
goes over to the boys who race away from her, faking her out as she tries to use
her body to block them. Finally she stops chasing and starts crying and
screaming. The baby starts crying. The boys look alarmed and come to her
warily. She smacks them both on the behind and says next time it’s a mouthwash
with soap.
“She
is so sweet. I love my little angel,” Shannon tells me
as she comes back into the kitchen and grabs a box of Froot Loops from the
cupboard, pouring some into a sandwich baggie. “Sorry,” she smiles
apologetically at me.
I
reassure her it is no problem. She hands the baggie of multicolored cereal to the
little girl and takes her into the living room. The boys are sitting in front
of the TV watching cartoons. The baby lurches around the perimeter of the room
towards her brothers, gripping the furniture as she learns how to walk.
“Anyway,
I get a job. At a really nice restaurant, actually,” she says returning to the
kitchen. She refills our perspiring glasses with sun tea from a glass jar in
the refrigerator. “As a hostess. Got promoted to a waitress pretty quick and
made $40 grand last year. The tips are amazing. Not bad for a teen mom, eh?”
In
the living room the baby drops the bag of precious sugar circles and starts
fussing. One of the boys goes over and picks it up, holding his sister’s hand
as he leads the little girl to join them in front of the TV.
“So
I moved out and got my own place. This place. My mom still watches the kids at night when I work. She has to do it here, though. My dad is still
pissed at me. Well I met Hailey’s* dad at the restaurant. He is one of the
sous-chefs. We live together but are not married.”
Shannon
opens up the window in the kitchen and lights a cigarette, fanning the smoke
out the screen as she sits on the window sill. In the living room the little
girl feeds her brother Froot Loops one at a time, squealing with delight as
they disappear into his mouth. He sticks out his color stained tongue to show
her it’s gone and she feeds him another.
“I
am not getting married again. I am too young. I don’t know what I want. I got
pregnant with him pretty quick too. It was a hard pregnancy and terrible delivery." Shannon shakes her head at the memory. "But ever since I had Hailey I have been in
pain, and it just keeps getting worse. I am tired all the time. It
hurts to pick her up, set her down, do anything with her. Just looking at the
boys hurts me. I lose my temper all the time.” Shannon
shakes her head back and forth as she explains her predicament.
As
she slowly exhales smoke through the screen I see how truly young this brave
woman is, facing momentous challenges head on and all on her own to boot. There
is a vulnerability in her sagging shoulders I want to rescue her from.
“I
went to the doctor and they took a lot of blood, but apparently there was
nothing wrong with my blood. They pushed on my body in all these places that
hurt like the dickens and told me I had Fibromyalgia. But didn’t really say
much more than that. Gave me Adderall and Amitriptyline. But that shit knocks
me out so I can’t take it. I mean I have three little kids in the house! And
the Adderall is like speed. So I don’t sleep, I cry so easily! My job is
killing me. My kids are consuming me. And I am barely 24 years-old!” Tears
well up and spill from her large kohl rimmed eyes. She puffs on the cigarette and
collects her thoughts.
I
want so badly to offer her a remedy, a quick fix, a return ticket to normal.
Sadly they just don’t exist in this situation. What can I say to this girl?
What advice can I give her? Anything I have to offer seems trite and
uninspired.
“I
don’t know what I am going to do. The doctor will not give me any pain
medication because I am too young to need them. He actually said that to me,
can you believe it? My insurance is HMO so you can’t just go to any old doctor
you feel like going to. Referrals and all that. I am starting to miss work
because I just can’t do it! What am I going to do? I can’t move back in with my
parents, you should have seen my dad when I got pregnant with Hailey." She rolled her eyes for emphasis. "Oh shit on
a stick was he pissed! I still don’t get child support from Darren. I can do
this, though, afford it all on my own, but not being sick. Not in this much
pain. I won’t keep my job if I keep missing work. They are really strict about
that. Hailey’s dad helps out but not much. Besides the twins aren’t his. He
never lets me forget that.”
She
holds her head in her hands, rocking it back and forth gently. Shannon
is overcome with the sheer burden of responsibility she carries. She is young
and capable, but the independent and energetic parts of her are eroding away
quickly. Bewildered, angry and confused she looks up, black mascara trails down
her cheeks.
“How
on earth am I going to support my kids? Nobody else wants to do it but me. But
some days I can’t get out of bed. I mean I do, I have to, but it’s like living
in quick sand. I don’t know how much longer I can go on if its gonna be like
this?”
As
I make my way home my heart is heavy with Shannon’s
burden. She is a good person trying to do the right thing, and getting no
breaks. I was not as young as she is when I got sick. I already went to college
and was married and don’t have kids to take care of. And my journey was living
hell. I can only imagine what being a single mom adds to the plate. Sadly I
don’t know how it is going to work out for my new friend. Her journey with chronic
illness is just beginning. She has very little support. I know from personal
experience the harder I pushed to normal the worse Fibromyalgia got. All I can do is hope and pray she is able to find her way.
Thanks for
joining,
Leah
*All character names are fictional to protect the anonymity of the contributor.
I know how Shannon feels as I too am a single mother, but I only have one child and work a full-time, very stressful job. My quality of life is slipping away and there is nothing I can do about it! **sigh** Shannon has my prayers, and thank you Leah for everything you do for us Fibromites!
ReplyDeleteI started noticing the fatigue when I was 24. Less than a year later I couldn't work anymore. The only people I could turn to were my mother and ex boyfriend. After resting for a year, I felt like I could work again. After a year of working part-time, I got burnt out and had to rest for a year before I was ready to try again. It went on and on like that. I eventually built up a better support system, so I spent my periods of homelessness in the homes of friends and relatives insread of at homeless shelters (except once). Finally I gave up on working and got on foodstamps. Then I got diagnosed with fibromyalgia, but I was never treated because I had no health insurance. A few years later, I was floundering with no where to go except back to my mom's house, when a job fell into my lap as an onsite apartment manager for a small complex. It's perfect because it required no previous experience or credentials, and I can work from home and set my own hours. It is a part time job, though, so it only covers basic expenses. But I have been able to maintain it for nearly 2 years with no sign burning out despite the fact that it is a high stress job.
ReplyDeleteRecently I was able to go to 5 sessions of one-on-one aquatic therapy to help build my physical endurance. Even sitting up straight is often a challenge because of the fatigue.
And I got a 2 month supply of amitriptyline to try out to see if it helps me get to sleep and get deeper sleep. It helps me get to sleep, but it's hard to wake up. Today it made me very dizzy.
I feel for this young woman with three young children. She does not have a good support system. That is not good. This is a debilitating illness. She has a very rough road ahead of her. I hope a miracle smooths it out for her.
Sometimes I wish I was a single mom instead of having a husband that has no compassion for what I go through every day. Then I read stories like these and it makes me rethink things a little. I know how *Shannon* feels when she said that she isn't able to get out of bed in the mornings, but she has to. I'm right there with you girl!
ReplyDeleteWhen you have kids, you have no choice but to get up and function. Healthy people don't really understand that. They think that if I go to work every day I can't really be sick. If they only knew what it takes to endure the pain and get up the energy to get dressed, get the kids ready and get to work on time, they might be a little more understanding. That's all I ask for sometimes, understanding.
It will get a little easier for Shannon when the kids get a little older and can do a little more for themselves. Mine are 12 and 8 and are just starting to help out a little. It's a big relief sometimes. It doesn't seem like her boyfriend is any help either. If he's not willing to help out then maybe she should rethink that relationship. Believe me, it will only get worse.