What to Do When Your City is Attacked

After you have checked that your loved ones are safe, find any way you can help.  Boston set up a website where we could sign up to help house stranded marathon runners and the Red Cross asked not to donate any more blood this week.  The need is continuous so donate away in the future.  Various Boston hospitals have wish-lists on Amazon where you can donate needed items.   You can help financially here.  Most importantly, it’s good to be informed, but you have to limit the amount of news you watch.  With the Boston attack, it became obvious that reporters/news outlets were salivating and loved spreading fear with occasional misinformation.

Allow yourself to freakout in small spurts if that helps.  Don’t wallow and get sucked into what-ifs.  Also, be mindful that people process fear and anxiety differently so it’s important to be compassionate and cut people some slack.  Personally, I let myself be upset Wednesday.  I’ve had to work through two cases of PTSD in the past twelve years so I know what is triggering and what is helpful.  The story I tell myself is that all of us have a veil of denial that we’ll live forever and nothing can hurt us.  Once that veil is ripped away, it takes a lot of work to get back to the normal level of denial – the veil back in place.  It’s like you go about your day but you are aware of the veil of denial so it doesn’t protect, it flickers in your periphery.

If you wake up one morning and discover your city is on lockdown and there’s a murderer loose, enjoy the lack of traffic on your commute while you make a mental list of everyone you know in the lockdown zone.   Accept the fact that you won’t be very productive at work as you refresh news sites for updates between waiting for your shelter in place people to check in about their status.

Finally, make sure you’re around loved ones and alcohol is plentiful the evening of lockdown day.   I was safe with a belly full of good food and margarita on hand as I watched the capture of the second suspect.  No better way to end the attack chapter.  Also, humor is a saving grace!  Best thing I read Friday night, “In Soviet Union you escape on boat! In America, boat traps you! What a country!

I think this is great:

Boston's Arc du Fort

To memorialize this past week, I'd love to see an arch over Boylston street.  At the apex of the arch could be some kind of scuplture or carving that symbolizes running.  Each corner could be for each fatality.  In my rough clip art version below,  I put the two youngest victims on the bottom.  Lingzi studied Stats, so a graph and Martin was still a child so a teddy bear.  From the news, I have heard about how kind and generous Krystle was so hand and heart and Sean apparently was born to be a policeman.  Since France has an Arc de Triomph, that's triumph, I think Boston should have an arch of strength.  This would make an easy finish line for the next 116 years of marathons.

Living in Interesting Times

Checking in on April 15, 2013

I have lived outside Boston for thirty-two years.  My dad worked in Boston and during February or April vacation, I would go into work with him.  I've stood on the sidelines handing out water to marathoners.  My first job after college was around the corner from Copley Square.

Today, I am counting my blessings that my family and friends are all safe and sound.  I am also very thankful that I don't have any children because how can you explain this kind of evil to an innocent?

In combination with obsessive cleaning,  and crying jags, I started looking here and here.  Because of course there has to be a reason that a hate-filled crazy person picked today.  Then, I remembered CRAZY.

Let me just tell you, the ranks of wheelchair marathoners will be huge next year and I will be cheering them on from the sidelines.

The New Job

Technically, it's not a new job anymore since I have been on the job for over two months and I'm not the newest hire anymore!

Overall, everything is going well.  I am still on the learning curve and my boss has been very supportive about my learning needs.  I work in a large department with sub-groups.  In my sub-group. there are two other guys who are co-workers, our boss, and another girl who started a couple weeks ago. One of the guys is a horrible trainer, the other is really good.  The bad one stands behind you and says, "Nope!" every time you do anything wrong.  Not exactly conducive to learning, no?  He is more task orientated and doesn't care why or how certain jobs fit into the big picture.  The good trainer gives you background on what you're doing and why you need to do it.  And he answers questions clearly.

I have to say that full-time work has so changed since 2007 (my last real job)!  First off, the hours are absolutely insane and the expectations of output for the workload is staggering.  40 hour work week is a complete myth/joke of the past.  Yet companies pay that level of salary, if not less.  But on the up side, I have a nice block of vacation/sick time.  But time off leaves so much work, it's almost not worth taking vacation time.  Oh yeah, I don't have the July Fourth holiday.

The commute has gotten a lot better now that 93N has opened the fourth lane between the route 24 split and 95.  93 to 95 is so much better than 24 to 495.  24 seems to be a highway driven by mental patients.    What completely turned me off of 24 is the snow storm a couple weeks ago.  No plowing had been done and an entire lane dropped off around Bridgewater so I had a nice little spin-out.  Sayonara 24!

The people I work with are really nice, supportive, and easy to talk to.  My second week I went to the belated holiday party so I got to know a ton of people and have fun!

Surviving Nemo

My boss told me last Thursday the department is working from home Friday.  My first work from home experience in a full-time perm job!

Since I live in Quincy, there was no storm activity in the early morning Friday so I ran out to get groceries and gassed up my car.  Frozen pizza was big for this storm.  As I was working at my dining room table, I noticed that my apartment wasn't really heating up.  I still had hot water so I called my heating oil company.  This is when snow flakes had started whirling.  Turns out I was out of heating oil so I needed an emergency fill-up - sayonara $600.  That afternoon, I was charging every chargeable device in my place when I got a text from a cousin elsewhere in Quincy saying she lost power.

Thank goodness for Sandy months ago!  I still had my power outage supplies.  My place lost power Friday night while I slept.  The apartment was in the 40's when I woke up so I layered on blankets and clothing then stayed in bed for a while.  I could not decide whether it would be worth it to dig out my car and come back to a freezing apartment. You're supposed to come back to a hot mug of cocoa damn it!  Then I realized that shoveling would warm me up and I would have access to a heated car.

Quincy plowed my street once overnight and the driveway had been partially shoveled by kind neighbors.  My landlord only clears snow when it suits him.  Since I have twisted separated ribs, I very carefully and slowly dug my car out.  I couldn't get it out of the spot and pain was getting to an unbearable level.  This is my first full-on freakout during Nemo.  I was sitting in my car warming up and resting close to tears with no idea how to get my car out.  My thoughts went to wonderful mythical Manservant Toby.  Then, I got a text from my cousin saying they got their power on.  Ah ha!  She's young, healthy and strong with a boyfriend - my saviors.

I got back inside and popped some pain pills to recover while I lay under 5 blankets with Stella curled up under them next to me and Ras snoozing on my feet.  Cats are awesome in power outages - walking hot water bottles!  I got some sleep but I had opened the panicky freakout door in my mind so I started remembering parts of Little House on the Prairie where it was deadly to sleep in the cold, I also considered building a fire in my tub to warm up, I considered the possible heat all the candles I own could give off, and of course I imagined my cats eating my dead frozen corpse and staying warm in my entrails Tauntaun style.  It was 35 degrees in my apartment by 8:30 PM Saturday night.  Like the proud strong independent woman I am, I called my mother crying and unable to come up with options.  She knew my aunt had gotten power back that day so the plan became evacuate apartment.  I left some hand warmers for the kitties to snuggle.

My cousin lost power Saturday night so she wasn't able to help dig out my car since she was evacuating Sunday.  They still don't have power!  A night's sleep in heat and a hot breakfast was pure nirvana for me.  My aunt drove me home and got my car out.  I had shoveled enough but didn't know how to rock it out.  Are there classes for rocking cars out?  Plus, my apartment had power!  It had come on early enough for my DVR to record Saturday Night Live.  Of course I cranked up the heat, did laundry, and reveled in the dissipating stress.  It took 8 hours for my place to get close to 50 degrees.

That's when I heard this trickling sound.  I thought it was my washer or a faucet I hadn't shut off properly.  Nope.  It was two spots in my baseboard heating vents in my bedroom leaking rivulets of water.  I used up all available towels and it still kept coming. I called my landlord and turned off the heat.  This felt like the cherry on my blizzard freakout sundae.  I just wanted to feel safe and relaxed in my home! I am proud to say I cried in front of my landlord who told me to, "Grow up."

I have two burst pipes in my bedroom so heat and hot water have been shut off.  My landlord gave me a portable heater so I can sleep comfortably.  In theory, everything should be fixed tomorrow.  If there are only two burst pipes in my place.  They have to do a nitrogen test to look for leaks.

In Honor of American Heart Month

When I was twenty-four I had a stroke.  It was in the right side of my brain, so my left side was affected.  Initially, I was paralyzed, numb, barely able to speak, and blind in my left eye.  This brain accident has completely changed my life in good ways and bad.

One of the great outcomes of surviving a stroke is that it has given me a confidence that I can get through any set-back.  Sure, I get worried and upset but is it stroke bad?  If no, I will be able to handle it.  I also became my own best healthcare advocate.  I speak up when something doesn’t feel right and I never let a doctor downplay my pain or concerns.  I also found out how generous and caring my extended family can be.  I truly feel the support and love I received helped my recovery.

Of course the lingering deficits are a notch in the bad column.  But I can pass as a regular person so that makes any struggles bearable.  The feeling on my left side has not come completely back.  I can feel impact and pain (eventually) anything more is gone.  I have cut my left side without knowing it until I see a trail of blood.  I burned my left ring finger when I didn’t notice a drop of grease fell on it.  I have accidentally zipped up skin into a zipper and pinned my thumb in a dryer rack.  So, I have to be hyper vigilant about Lefty.  Also, my left shoulder is permanently out of socket due to my initial paralysis and muscles not pulling the joint back into place.  Difficulties in learning have gotten better but I still have problems with testing situations, hearing something and understanding, memory is spottier too.

Another negative is my brain structure has completely changed.  A change in structure means that brain chemistry is all screwed up so I’m on three types of medications; a SSRI, anticonvulsant, and ADD.  When I say brain structure is completely changed, I do mean to include the new neural pathways my brain has built but I am also talking about the hole in my brain.  Yup, whatever brain matter dies from lack of oxygen goes away.  Nothing heals back; the brain just builds a detour.

Get me in a MRI, you can definitely tell I had a traumatic brain injury.

My uncle had a stroke Oct. 31, 2012 on the same exact side of the brain with a clot in the same artery.  He is forty years older than when I had my stroke so his recovery has been a lot longer.  I’m glad I have been able to be a resource to my family about what to expect.  But there is also a bit of survivor’s guilt when I visit him and see his paralyzed left side.   His speech and cognition is a lot better than mine at the same point in recovery.  He is in his second rehab hospital and is scheduled to go home mid-February.  Now, all the emotions are catching up with him and I think that’s good.  But man it can be overwhelming!  Realizing what happened to you, how close you came to dying, and trying to strike a balance between hope and realism is so, so familiar…  I’m lucky to have had twelve years, medication, and really good therapy to share some perspective with him.

I have told him that with a near death experience, you suddenly realize you can die at any second.   It’s like a veil of denial is lifted while everyone else is going on about their oblivious way.  It takes a while to calm down the anxiety and awareness but eventually you get to join the oblivious ranks.  It's sad to say but it's nice to know someone else who gets it.