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Writer's pictureJen Sullivan

Financial Distress


"The Scream" by Edvard Munch

Back toward the beginning of December, my husband was injured on the job while unloading a truck. The machinery that they used to unload was broken, so they had set up a temporary fix that unfortunately resulted in my husband losing his balance and injuring his ribs. His boss took him to Lancaster General Health Urgent Care here in Lebanon where the doctor told him he was fine and could return to work as usual for his next scheduled shift.


Thankfully, management at his job insisted that he not lift or bend, keeping him on restrictions even though the doctor said he was fine. He was told by his job to return to LGH Urgent Care for a follow-up within five days, only to discover that they did not do follow-up visits at the location. He was then instructed to visit the nearby MedExpress, where they started from scratch with a new diagnosis. That doctor put him on severe restrictions, stating that he could not lift anything, nor could he push, pull, bend, or reach.


With such strict medical restrictions, he was told he could not work and his job’s insurance would eventually pay him for his lost wages. We were not sure how long that would take, or how much they would pay, and I was starting to worry since I still did not have an income of my own. We went into Christmas not knowing if we would be able to pay our rent for January, or any of the rest of our bills. My mother, who lives with us, was able to pay our rent thanks to the annual gift she gets from her church for being a single woman, along with her Social Security and income from various jobs. Needless to say, it was a stressful financial time.


As I sat down to go over our finances last week, I could see that we were rapidly approaching the point when we would have to pick and choose which bills we would pay and which ones we wouldn’t. And by “rapidly approaching,” I mean next week. I have not been in that situation since 2011 when I moved to Lebanon and was unable to find work. That was when my credit score was destroyed, which would later ruin our chances to buy a nice, small home in 2019.


I suppose it is harder on me now than it was back in 2011. When I was a store manager, I got used to being the primary source of income. With my last manager job, we could easily live on my income alone. Now all we do is struggle. Granted, we made some poor financial decisions over the years simply because I was making decent money and we could afford it, but not all of our financial burdens are due to wasteful spending.


Our credit card debt was made worse in 2019 by my visits to a medical specialist with employer health insurance that didn’t cover anything until we hit our $6000-per-person deductible. Two hundred dollars per visit, followed by two surgeries—I left the surgeries go into collections simply because we could not afford to pay for them. I was making “decent” money, but not enough to cover the cost of a total hysterectomy.


More recently, we were spending money to keep our cat Loki alive, meaning more expensive food and multiple trips to the vet for health issues. It’s a decision I would of course make again—he was my baby, and a pet is a lifelong commitment.


The sad part is my salary as a Joann store manager was still considered lower income by most standards. Though we could live on it, that didn’t mean it was a good salary. We live in an inexpensive rental complex in a run-down town filled with pawn shops and vacant buildings. Still, we were able to live comfortably on that salary, and sometimes I wonder if I just should have stayed at the job that was slowly killing me. There were parts of it I liked—some of my employees, some of my customers, and being surrounded by pretty colors that drew me into a different world.


Realistically, I never belonged at that job and was only ever there for a paycheck. I was quite miserable there, and the job altered my personality to a point that I’m not sure I can ever recover who I was before. My patience with people diminished and my inner salesperson died simply because I never had the time to actually interact with customers. I was always working on several tasks to keep the company from coming down hard on myself and my employees. It was a task-heavy toxic environment filled with bullies above store level. There was no support, only criticism—just like growing up with my father.


On Saturday, my husband finally received a check for his lost wages, along with another one on Monday, lessening the stress of our financial security. We will still struggle until I am able to secure a source of income, even just part-time work. The truth is my husband’s earning potential is not as high as mine because of my Associate’s Degree and years of experience, but I find myself unable to perform the work I have done in the past. It just isn’t in me anymore. That doesn’t stop me from applying to and trying to get management or retail jobs, none of which have resulted in employment, or at least, not in a job I could actually perform.


My search for work continues, as always, hoping that someday I can sleep easy knowing that we will be able to pay all of our bills for the month without my mother helping us with more than her fair share.

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