It was 3:33 am. The sun had not risen. It was dark. The phone rang. No school. Desperately trying to understand the situation in my fog of fours of sleep, I search the news feeds, Facebook, where ever I can find information. Then, I look outside. Rain..... Hours later, my world was flooding. That evening, the city was cut in half, people evacuated, and my neighborhood was put on evacuation notice. Rain , rain, rain, a day later, we are fine, high and dry...sort of. The lucky ones. Kids have the first ever flood days, an impromptu fall break. It rains every day. Kids sweep out the garage and play in there anyway. Son has his birthday party with two boys in the area. We walk and skate when the sun is out. From our hill vista, we evaluate the rise and recession of our Dry Creek and ponder why parents are letting their little ones get in the nasty brown waters of the ponds left once the creek started to receed. It smells. And so it goes....
Meanwhile, these five days were scheduled for me days. Days to be an artist and slip in a little yoga here and there. Amazingly, two paintings were started, a little one finished, kids learned to use the sewing machine, and I cleaned my studio to get ready for the Longmont Studio Tour. The house did not get cleaned. Oh, did I mention a day volunteering in one of the neighborhoods with the worst flood damage. Talk about smelly and dirty. The kids and I resigned we were no good AT&T he heavy lifting and dirty stuff and opted to sit with the ladies in the shade scrubbing Christmas ornaments.
Meanwhile, I prepped for a friend's wedding in which Hubby was best man. This included walking over to the only shop in walking distance to find a dress for the occassion. Score, the perfect dress bought on my consignor credit. I love consignment stores! Friday rolls around, Hubby snaked his way in from the airport, and we are off for a five hour drive to Basalt. Out west near Aspen, the weather is great. We had tons of fun. And, we shared buckets of love to our sortofbutnotreallyknownyoufortwentyyears extended family. Five hours we are home to celebrate Son's birthday with family.
Meanwhile, during all this flooding, volunteering, art making, sewing, teaching, walking, wedding, and generally trying to maintain the sanity of my offspring and myself, I am screening calls. When's my scans? They are supposed to be next week. What do you mean they aren't approved by the insurance company? What, huh? The doctor needs to do what? Who the heck knows what is going on here? Agagagaggghhhh! A good week of figuring, waiting, returning calls from four different locations, and finally I get resolution only three days prior to when I am supposed to have my fall cancer screening. The PET is denied. The appointment is cancelled. CTs are ordered. The MRI finally gets approved. Blah blah blah, appointments for scans scheduled for Friday. Keep in mind, the Studio Tour is Saturday and Sunday. Thank goodness I am organized. Somewhere in the week, I got it all done and the laundry too.
Wait, there is more. I know. Really? The nurse at the CT stabbed me five times to get a good vein for the IV. That makes six punctures in my elbow pit if you include the blood drawl a few days before. My arm is so sore, black and blue. Oh, yes, and get this, she forgets to do the chest CT, and I have to go back in on Monday. Really?
Meanwhile, yes there's more, a dog bit me on Tuesday. Since I was rushing to get to yoga, I didn't hesitate to look and limped through the pain to be on time. Ergo it wasn't until after my shower Wednesday that I noticed the area was black an blue with a puncture scab. And, Thursday, the dogs rushed at me again. That snow balled into calling the animal control and trying to get a tetanus shot on Friday. After my Scans in the am, I went of the IM who said I had to go to the ER who said I should wait until Monday and go to the public clinic run by FEMA with shots for $21. Monday, after my make- scan I find a well earned seat on my porch and chill while eating my sandwhich and drinking pint of water to wash out the contrast from the scans. I am on my iPad feeling pretty relaxed and ready to head out the door for my 2:40 appointment when my dad walks in. I am surprised because he wasn't supposed to come over to help move art back into storage until school was out. Then he says he should go get the kids. What? It is only 2:15, and I still need to go get my shot. Oh, crud, iPad clock is an hour behind. It's 3:15. So the end of that segment is three times I have been diverted from getting my tetanus shot. Three strikes your out. Guess it wasn't meant to be, at lesst not at this time.
Somewhere between medical personnel shrugging their shoulders and saying, "Welcome to Obama care" and this moment, I had a wonderful weekend during my Studio Tour. It was a busy couple of days, and I am extremely glad my mother was there to help me host the steady flow of guests. I made some big sales and lots of connections.
All of the above, the good, bad and the ugly, occurred in a web of events through the past couple of weeks. In the spaces between the waves, I found joy in my children, danced at a wedding, helped food victims, painted, received uplifting critique, finished three magazines, almost finished a book, took a salt bathe, did yoga, spent a lot of time with my folks even if it was via phone worrying about each other in our own parts of our flood-split town, and breathed. On Monday, after my second set of scans for which I had to fast, I went into my favorite coffee shop for a sandwhich and rice milk latte. My favorite barista committed on my happy smile. "Whatsa happening with you?" After spilling a list of my woes including the tearful sibling spat over rock collections this am, I told her I am happy because all that is done. It's my yesterday. And, by Wednesday, I might get to stick my head out of my shell to find the calm in the storm. I look forward to a rejuvenating therapeutic massge and a short to do list.
My mantra for today: Accpet that which is troubling. Muddle through without resistance and forgive their burdens. Like the seasons, they will pass. There is a calm in the storm of life. It is coming. It will be here. Breath. Namasta.
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