SLIDER

Monday, March 14, 2011

Fractures, earthquakes, and tsunamis

Friday morning turned out to be more eventful than I had anticipated.



Here I was, looking forward to sleeping-in for my Friday morning off from work. Ha! Alex decided his arm hurt badly enough (he rated it an "8" for pain) from a soccer fall the night before that he needed me to take him to Kaiser for an x-ray.



While trying to wake up, I logged in to Facebook. I have this theory that looking at computerized screens helps to wake me up. I decided this based on non-scientific readings I have done in magazines like Real Simple and Oprah telling me not to watch TV or use the computer within 2 hours of bedtime, as the visual stimuli interrupts natural sleep patterns. I, in turn, interpret this to mean that the visual stimuli will also serve to wake me up in the morning. Hence my early morning interface with FB for iPhone. I take notice of a couple postings - one from one classmate to another in Hawaii, asking if she's alright; another from a lady on the Oregon coast referencing evacuation; and yet another publically mourning Japan. Japan? Why? I don't yet know. While Facebook didn't provide me with the newsy details, it did inspire me to check the morning news.



Japan. Earthquakes. Nuclear power plants. Fires. Tsunamis. Devastation.



As I watch the live news coverage, my mouth agape, I'm appalled at what unfolds before me. I'm immediately struck by my own wave of compassion, with a tsunami of fear hot on its tail.

Then I remember Brian and Katie. On an island, sunning themselves and getting massages. In Indonesia. Bali's kinda near Japan, right? I mean, if Hawaii is threatened to be washed over, then I'm sure Bali's under some sort of threat.



I call Brian to check in, and thankfully he answers on the third ring. He seems a little hopped up on the adrenaline that must accompany a natural disaster threat such as this one, but it seems they are in the clear. First of all, the surges would have come and gone by the time I'd called. And second, they were fortunately protected by the other islands and land masses north of Bali.



Phew.



Then again, Alex still has a broken arm and is whimpering in pain. And there's the mess the size of Japan to clean up. But, I can only be responsible for so much. I lean over, kiss my husband on the forehead and remind myself, and him, how lucky we are. To be together. To be alive. It's only a broken wrist.

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