Working At The Pie Shop… Surgery!

I’m nervous.

I’m having carpal tunnel surgery this week. I don’t want to have the surgery, but it’s my best treatment option — save the nerve before it becomes too damaged (or even dead) to give me a chance (which is solid) at 100% recovery.

The surgery itself doesn’t really bother me. I even watched a YouTube video of the procedure and thought, “Oh, neat!” It’s the recovery that concerns me. I loathe losing my independence, my ability to do simple tasks — wash my hair, pour water into my bottle, clean dishes, etc.

I also struggle with essentially heaving my entire workload onto my co-workers. You see, I work in a local bakery — we specialize in pie. Right now, there are four of us, including the owner. They have the strength and the endurance to take on the extra work — since making the tough transition from academia to working in the pie shop I’ve gained immense admiration for them and feel as though I’ve gained another family. There are no words that can fully articulate how much they mean to me. I’ll even miss seeing some of our customers, especially our regulars. The entire surgery process, thus far, has been a strange journey for me because of this.

Before working at the pie shop, I had three hip surgeries, all of which occurred while I was either working as an adjunct instructor or in a PhD program. I had to schedule my surgeries around my work for financial reasons. As an adjunct there are no benefits, and the pay is low. No joke: teaching five classes during one semester provides a monthly income that isn’t that much more than what I bring in per month working at the shop. And teaching five classes requires more work hours than the 35 to 40 I get at the shop. As for the surgery required part way through my PhD work… having a major surgery and recovery smack dab in the middle of a semester doesn’t work for anyone which would mean taking a leave of absence which would mean no income for five months. So I held off for three months to have it during winter break. My spring semester still began with me on crutches.

If my point isn’t clear: academia doesn’t have a solid mechanism, particularly for grad students or adjunct instructors, for life’s inconveniences such as needing surgery. There’s also a host of people with bizarre attitudes towards it all. Your health isn’t priority. If you’re lucky you meet people that actually consider it a priority, and I have… but they’re rare gems.

But at the pie shop it’s different. My health matters. And I get to come back when I’m ready rather than waiting until the next semester. Because it’s a small business, I don’t have sick time. But I get to come back before I’m fully functioning (I can’t lift more than 5 pounds with my right hand for an entire month, and I’m not allowed to get the incision wet for the first two weeks after surgery — so I can’t even help with dishes or as I refer to it: dish mountain) to work on tasks I can do like running register and updating recipes. The owner even understood when I said I scheduled my surgery so quickly so I could be recovered before Pi Day even though we are currently short staffed. Pi Day is a big deal when your in the business of making and selling pie! And this speaks to the beauty of this pie shop. I chose to schedule my surgery when I did because I wanted to make sure I could be there for Pi Day because I care about everyone I work with. The owner has created a place that makes you, if you’re not a total asshole, want to be there. There are days I look at the giant pile of dishes and think, “Ugh. I just want to go home. Fuuuuucccckkk.” But most of the time I love my job. Sometimes the dishes don’t even bother me — I can connect my phone to the speaker and rock out to music while I scrub, rinse, sanitize.

I’m so used to working around institutional schedules and being valued more for my work output than as a human being that my brain is confused by this latest surgery and the response it’s gotten at work. But in a good way. The pie shop and its people have saved my life. I was in a hole of depression far deeper than I’d ever been in ages when I applied for the job. Applying for the job, choosing happiness, was the best decision I’d made in a long time. The kindness of everyone at the shop after learning I needed surgery and when it would happen confirmed this, not that I needed any confirmation. I’ve only worked at the shop for about five months, but it already feels like another home. And it’s a home that gives me hope — there are kind hearted people in this world that welcome and even help heal broken people like me. I’ve always felt out of place… but I don’t at the pie shop. I know places like this are tough to find so I’m going to hold on to it tight and thank the universe for giving me hope, happiness, friendship, a second home.