ellenspictures

Category: faith

  • Big Storms Everywhere. The context of climate change and our human condition.

    Big Storms Everywhere. The context of climate change and our human condition.

    https://earth.nullschool.net

    “Hi, I’m Gabrielle”

    Today, New Zealand finds itself dealing with their “storm of the century” (literally), while having just experienced a flood event that in human recollection or record of anyone on these islands can say ever happened before. Two extreme weather events within a month’s time, after a lot of heat and rain over the summertime there is indicative of climate changes that have been showing themselves over the past few years.

    Even the International Terminal at the Auckland Airport flooded in the recent flooding event, which is unheard of, normally in most developed countries. Albeit, the airport itself is located by the water, onshore, usually the water drains out to the waters of Manukau Harbor – but with the combination of volumes of rain within a short time period and ground saturation, the “normal” drainage apparently didn’t work. Now they are facing yet another threat of not only large volumes of precipitation, but gale force winds that exceeds what they typically experience in storms, as well.

    Our family and friends there haven’t experienced our infamous Gulf of Mexico hurricanes unless they have been where a hurricane has happened. Ours are of the variety that people experience in warm water environments, which typically New Zealand is not a warm water ocean environment… The understanding of what it is like to go through a storm like that is not within the working experience knowledge base of most NZ citizens unless they have lived in those warm ocean environments. I really hate that this is happening to them. Praying for all there…

    Experience builds expectations and anxieties.

    For me, my first experience was Hurricane Alicia, and one of horror and awe all mixed up – horror at how hard the wind was blowing and things outside were blowing around without our having any sort of control over any of it and awe that this could go on for hours and hours and hours and hours… without stopping, with torrential rain flooding everything – and we lived in the woods, not on the ocean where storm surge can happen and literally swamp with flood water everything everywhere it comes. As a kid, we moved to Houston just after Hurricane Carla destroyed homes and businesses, plus literally MOVED a bridge, the physics of wind-force and water combination at work. I remember Dad pointing this out as we were going to Galveston and had to take a detour over another bridge to get to the island.

    Floridians live with this threat, as do people all along the Gulf of Mexico coast – all the islands in the Caribbean – plus the Atlantic Coastal communities – we are all in the cross-hairs of the West African disturbances that move across the Atlantic in the warm weather months and gain energy to become full blown hurricanes sometimes. In the past decade, or since even longer back than that, the hurricane activity has been greater than ever, in particular those that go into Florida and up the Atlantic coast… Since 2017, when we experienced Harvey, a historic flooding event, more our area has been hit with the polar events several times in 2021, 2022, and 2023. These are weather extremes due to melting polar ice. Would not be surprised if the ice melts in Antarctica have something to do with the latitudes changing for strong tropical cyclones. I’m no meteorologist, but I am an observer of facts.

    So, I think this will be a learning experience for many there who are pretty confident that “they’ve got this”.

    There is a full-on emergency declaration. Already the storm Gabrielle is doing damage and wreaking havoc, and there is yet to discover more… this is ongoing. This is far from over. The sustained nature of wind and rain over time is what wears against the strength of objects and fills up areas with the weight of water. It is all about physics. Tragedy is unfolding as this is written.

    Riding the storm out

    If you are prepared physically and mentally you get through storms, most every time, without freaking out and doing something that is not smart, due to panic. In rare exceptions, such as tsunamis after earthquakes, which really aren’t the same type of storms, this might not be the case, but nonetheless the main thing is to not panic. I try not to panic, but my autonomic response sometimes kicks in and I have to calm myself down and “think”, but not over think the situation – analysts tend to over think, which is a professional hazard at times. Practical thinking and first aid, triage training, and survival skills like you learn as a boy scout or girl scout are handy. It’s handling the unexpected with aplomb that is the true skill.

    Even in areas where there are earthquakes and tsunamis, preparation measures are given to people who live there. Some listen and do prepare, some do not. People in both cases when they don’t prepare, don’t make it out alive. That’s a fact.

    Also, there are cases if you live where there are lots of big trees and a big tree falls on the shelter where you are and smashes it. Well, that is likely either a God thing or being in the wrong place at the wrong time, which is either a God thing or bad luck. In that case, it might have been an idea to look at the big trees, the direction that the wind would be coming from, and calculate a trajectory if the tree falls – which room would it fall onto? I wouldn’t be hanging out in that room… But then, that’s my take on preparing. Tape windows, go get a bunch of food to last three or more days (if the storm is a bad-ass storm), get phone chargers and phones charged up – make sure the car has gas, yada yada yada…

    Sometimes, people do not prepare and are overwhelmed by what happens – when the problems with storms are predictable, but maybe in probability, this is indeterminable ahead of time – it is the “what is the worst that can happen” scenario to prepare for. And if the worst doesn’t happen, it’s always good to not have the feeling, “well that was silly”, as sometimes, and there are times, when it isn’t silly at all – first time experiences are only the first to add to the knowledge base that will be built after multiple experiences over time. Probably it is wise to ask someone who has had multiple storm experiences, if you can sit through the stories and glean the good bits…

    The pit into which some people fall includes having an attitude about “things being silly”, with too much bravado, which can lead to doing stupid stuff or under-preparing, which is the equivalent of doing stupid stuff. At any rate, being sensible and listening to weather people and those who are in charge of preparedness is the best combination to stay safe. Bottom line – when the storm is all over and it didn’t affect you adversely, you can count your lucky stars.

    All of this being said, I truly don’t like the experience of riding out a hurricane or cyclone, whichever term you use – it is the episode of intense wind and rain leading to big messes to clean up if not life threatening situations. Who does? It’s usually a time of high anxiety and the usual distractions are unavailable. Time to get out the cards, puzzles, and board games! Get out the candles and the fire-starter devices. Practice using them! If you are using matches, make sure they’re still good if they have been sitting a long time. Being prepared for extremes in temperature is also a good idea even if it’s been warm lately, with big cyclone-type storms, the temperatures can drop down to chilly for the duration, especially if it is wet. Wet + wind can introduce wind chill.

    Ice storms and tornadoes are included in this array, as well. Don’t like those either.

    Flavors and variations of weather events. Ice storms. Tornadoes aka twisters. Typhoons. Any weather events that wreak destruction… Then the other types of earth events like droughts, and fires, and the above mentioned earthquakes… then don’t forget volcanoes. Lots in Mother Nature’s bag of nasty surprises. It’s how we view it, though. In her context her clock is geological. In ours, it’s on our wrists or on a wall… It is philosophical and existential. It is essentially, the nature of things. Nonetheless, it is our reality.

    The test is the recovery.

    After the storm has passed through, or ended, the recovery begins. Initially, the search for victims and damage – those who were overwhelmed by mother nature, and those who tragically may have succumbed – missing or found to be gone – these test our faith. Why here? Why now? Why this person? Why this devastation? It is the huge power of nature that is underestimated by humans. It is why our earliest ancestors looked to the heavens or to gods in their culture for answers.

    But, here we are. Humans still occupy the planet in great numbers despite Mother Nature and in spite of ourselves, at least at this moment in time. We who survive recover, rebuild in time, and renew. It is what was before and what is after.

    closeup photo of sprout
    Photo by PhotoMIX Company on Pexels.com

    Missing spans of nice weather which of course, we are finding we have less and less these days. I guess that is why we call this climate change, “the weather ain’t what it used to be” or was it ever?

    If we change our timescale and ask the universal super powers that be, they would say “in geological timescale, you have not seen the worst come back, but you will.” That is the scary thought that we all avoid having.

    The dinosaurs could tell us… but, oh – they can’t. Um. There you go.

  • Pandemic Version 20.22? Entering Year Three…

    Pandemic Version 20.22? Entering Year Three…

    Favorite old phrase from a Neil Young song title… “Here we are in the years…”

    2022 kicked us off with one of us having a moderate case of COVID-19, Omicron Variant presumably. The rest of us were either mildly affected briefly, then asymptomatic. Some of us got tested and that is how we determined that we actually had the virus – else, our symptoms would not have driven us to be tested. That was the vaccination effect – according to our doctors, that is what the vaccinations do for us. Our moderate case likely would have been more severe, and could have become a hospital case, without the help of the vaccination immunity boosts.

    We didn’t lose our taste or smell, thank goodness, and our lungs were not impacted. The rest of it was headache, cough, sore throat, fevers and chills, and brain fog – then the residual tiredness that you hear about, that comes on suddenly and says “whoa, stop and rest…”

    The asymptomatic of us never lost energy, had fevers or chills, or were impacted any more than having a sinus headache and itchy eyes for one day, then a bit of stuffiness – but at the same time we had a high pollen count alert, due to the warm weather – so, who knows? We had both.

    It’s difficult now to say how to approach this. We continue to mask-up, avoid large crowds, don’t eat out unless it’s outside… We go outdoors and that is our haven. I find going into stores extremely stressful. I come out and am relieved to be out of there. People are weird and rude and it’s just a strange experience. Some without masks look defiantly at those of us that wear them. But, it’s hard to tell.

    We have the attitude that we will still do what we can, because we believe that we could get infected again. It’s like I feel about the flu – even if you had your shots, you may still get some variant that wasn’t in the shot. Vaccines for COVID-19 are different, but the main thing is to keep your immunity up as much as possible.

    If you think about it, it’s grim – but, there are those of us who try not to lose hope…

    We haven’t seen some our family for going on three years. One of us has parents, still living, that are advancing into their eighties. We have missed birthdays and will miss a wedding. My mother-in-law is very sad and breaks out tearily, but tries not to upset us, but this actually does bring on the emotions that are being kept inside.

    All sorts of prickly emotions happen these days. Adapting since early 2020 has meant more isolation, and less socialization, which really plays with how you interact with people. It’s very tough on some of us.

    We hear news that gives us glimmers of hope for what may be opening in six months – but that, we know, is really too far away to make plans – we now know that something could emerge in a short period of time that could change everything.

    Coping is Hoping

    What we now do is try to anticipate hopeful times. There are countries where this virus variant is just now arriving and spreading. Let’s say that we were third, maybe fourth in line… that leaves many countries at risk, and the virus will ravage their unvaccinated, and leave behind the vaccinated and those who would never get the virus or not know that they have had it – even though science says that most everyone will.

    We have to cope and anticipate what we have to do differently with every wave that comes along. We believe that this will be versioned and each version will require a slightly different surfboard to ride the waves – hopefully, we can still do that without falling off.

    Hope for 2022?

    • That our coping mechanisms will be refined.
    • That we will have better structures and rules to deal with this that can lend us the ability to travel confidently again.
    • That we will be able to travel to see family and friends more.
    • That we will be able to understand how better to bring fun into our lives, rather than the doldrums of work and everyday routines.
    • Anticipation of every visit from our grandchild, or friends who are brave enough to venture out and socialize with us.

    By this writing, we are still here. We hope to be here. I have health on my agenda. I swim every day that the weather permits. I try to eat healthy and do other things with my time towards health – because it’s up to me to do that.

    -Hope Never Vanishes

    January 24, 2022

  • Every time I have that memory…

    Every time I have that memory…

    It was a long time ago, now. Sixteen years. It was the grimmest of grim. We held on to hope when there was very little to hold onto. Every single day, and the days between those, every visit from each of the doctors pushed us up and down the emotional roller coasters.

    Now I understand that people who are relatively balanced don’t freak out. Well, some do. The actual mechanics of surviving tough times involves breaking the experience down into edible chunks – the brain can only process so much at once – that’s how we roll. Here in 2021, we have to do this to try to adapt and keep adapting to the uncertainty that we have going on at this moment. If we think about the macro, it’s just too much.

    That was what it was like in 2005, in Rob’s final days with us. We couldn’t think about the macro too much – the micro was changing every day with unexpected tribulations popping up at every turn. In the nearly six weeks in the hospital we had changing prognoses, surgeries to face, prayers for recovery, when recovery wasn’t coming, listening to theories and hearing the words, “we’re in uncharted territory…”

    What were we supposed to say? Give up? I’m not a “give-up” kind of girl – wasn’t then, and am not now. I wanted them to give everything to helping Rob survive the situation that can only be described as a huge medical debacle. But, we don’t give up on 17 year-old kids – not mine, at least. I was in that mindset the whole time.

    Maybe the doctors went around the corner and shrugged their shoulders, but at least they didn’t do that in front of me. You see a lot when you’re practically living in the hospital with someone. You begin to adapt to the milieu. I was trying to make the best of things for Rob – get him what he wanted – what he needed – and be his mama-tiger advocate – always.

    We had endured having to move all our stuff out of his room when he went off to surgery – because they needed his bed – my response was “where are we going to put his things? all the things that have been keeping him sustained for the last month?” The answer came back, “We’re sorry, we don’t have an answer for you… You will have to move them out…” I said, “He’s going into surgery! Our house is an hour away! You expect me to do this NOW? What can you be thinking?” The people were acting like I was becoming violent or something because I didn’t just say, “OK, thanks…” It was maddening to think that they had so little empathy for a patient – even financially, they had made lots of bucks off of his stay – that was my cynical thinking at the time… He was an “insured” patient…

    Finally, the charge nurse and the nurse manager came in and said we could store his things in their store room – possibly they could get me a bed at the Ronald McDonald House, if there was room… So, that is what I did… I was so shattered by then, I could hardly tell what time of day it was. That’s what happens when your child has surgery that takes hours long – and you come out and it’s the middle of the night. You don’t know where they will take him or where you will find him next… It’s very unsettling for families.

    I tried to be nice – and mostly was – but I also got very frustrated at the chaos at times. I mean, how could they possibly keep making screwed-up mistakes? Grrrrrrrr.

    Maybe they weren’t but, my baby just wasn’t getting any better… C’mon…

    He survived that surgery, and eventually was put back into a regular room. Little did we know this would be temporary. Time sequences become confusing in memory.

    In trying to balance the days and nights, sharing the only bed in his room, by trading off, it was each time, when leaving – agonizing. Returning, each time, there was the re-entry and orientation to what the latest situation was – trying to get information was sometimes like pulling teeth. If only, the iPhone had been invented then… Handy recording could have helped.

    Rob was moved to a “step-down” which was actually a “step-down” from the ICU. More like a critical care unit. For the last days of his life, he was there. It was a large room, and visitors were permitted. His friends came to visit a couple of days before he died, but we didn’t know that he was close to his final day – he was just sleepy and non-responsive. That should have told us something.

    One night, as I was leaving to hand off to his dad, Rob said to me while I was hugging him to say good-bye, “Mom, I want you to be with me when I die.” It took my breath away. My reaction was saying, “You’re not dying… sweetie… you’re going to be okay once we get through this…”

    He was less in the present, and visiting the path to the future, as we did not understand, but I now know. I remember washing his hair – helping him shower – and he was barely awake – so weak at that point. He had not really eaten much food in days. They had begun to give him TPN (which is nutrition via IV). In fact in retrospect, the sequence of events that happened over the next few days led to his event horizon.

    That was a term he described once to me while he was looking at the string of pulmonary function test results graphed together… This was ahead of his being approved for the transplant. He said back then, “I’m getting close to zero – that’s when I end.” That one got me. He was a very analytical guy – but insightful and emotional – just like me.

    This time of year I cannot help but revisit the memories of the past – those days leading up to his final day and the end of his earthly journey. I try not to feel badly. That’s hard because, I’m human, and I’m his mom, and we are selfish as humans – we miss our loved ones when they go – and if it is our babies or our big kids – that especially hurts…

    So that wish was his command. I was with him when he passed on, holding his hand, lying across him in his final hospital bed in the ICU. It broke my heart. The drive home was the longest drive – I was alone – I drove the route the last time from his hospital room back to the last place he lived. Sometimes, I wonder how I did that – how did I muster the strength in the wee hours to make that last journey, when just a few hours before, I was driving like the wind to get down to the hospital where he had been taken to the ICU and placed on life support…

    I didn’t get to see him that day, conscious, or where he would be able to respond and say goodbye. I found him ready to leave. Systems on idle. Ready to shut down for the big sleep for the journey to his next place in the universe.

    Dragonflies

    I often think when I see the dragonflies that visit me, “why dragonflies?” Because of their beautiful furious short lives, maybe? Because they are ferocious, yet gorgeous? Because they are friendly to me? Who knows? But dragonflies tell me that he is okay – he is still okay – and will always be okay.