Irrational Fears

Could you drive across these bridges?

I couldn't! Just looking at them causes me to hyperventilate. I'll ride in a gondola, suspended by a tiny, steel cable to the top of the tallest mountain in any given country, but put me on a tall bridge and I can barely control the panic I feel. I'll take a glass elevator to the top of a skyscraper without a thought, but steep bridges send me over the edge, or at least I'm afraid they will.... Yes, I have an irrational fear of tall bridges. It's probably post traumatic stress from so many years of riding with my grandmother in the mountains. She took those hairpin curves at speeds I'll barely drive on the highway. Something about looking over the edge and seeing only air makes me nearly pass out.

The fear is getting worse too as San Antonio groans its way into becoming a bustling metropolis. The former construction zones at the 281/410 and I10/410 interchanges have given way to huge overpasses with tall bridges. Every day I speed my way under the newly built concrete ramps on 281 lest they topple over with me underneath, then I thank God that I don't have to drive over them because that would be much worse.

My niece loves to tell the story of the time I took her and her siblings to the coast and we had to drive over the tall bridge connecting North Padre Island and Corpus Christi. In order for me to cope I instructed the 4 children to remain silent, then I turned off the radio and held on to the steering wheel for dear life. The kiddos thought it was funny and kept giggling as I fought back tears and tried to breathe normally. The laughter escalated each time I asked them to be quiet. Finally, at the point of near hysteria I barked at them to "shut up!" Kaitlyn laughs with delight each time she tells that story. Of course, I feel terrible for setting such a poor example, but then I was panicking and afraid that four of my favorite people (plus me) would meet their maker after plunging to their deaths into the Gulf of Mexico.

Just yesterday I felt the same panic as Serina and I were driving home from the mall. I would have taken San Pedro Ave to Woodlawn, all to avoid the bridges, but the highway is faster and I wasn't driving so I found myself covering my face in fear and peeking out to see how much longer it would be before I could breathe again.

That scenario has been repeated many times, with many different people and each time I feel like the biggest dork ever. I'm a logical, intelligent (usually) person. I KNOW that the bridges will carry even my weight, but they are so tall and narrow and people drive WAY too fast. All I can see is a car careening over the edge and crashing to the highway below and it terrifies me.

Since I am a woman of deep faith the question begs to be asked: Why am I afraid when I know my life is in the hands of my creator? I'm guessing it's because a car careening off of a bridge symbolizes how I feel about my life: OUT OF CONTROL. I'm technically driving but I'm not really in control. God is. I can steer and brake and try very hard to stay on my chosen path, but God will take me where he wants me to go, even scary, hurtful places. I know this and it scares me and infuriates me all at the same time. His approach is often wild and unpredictable, which is disconcerting. Not that he hasn't proven himself to me time and time again. His love created me. And when I was fallen and could not get up, he sacrificed his Son so we could reconcile. Obviously he has the best intentions toward me. But despite his goodness, I see through a glass darkly and being out of control isn't comfortable so I try to avoid it.

How do I reconcile God's love and goodness with my fear of really bad things happening? What if my car DOES careen off of a tall bridge and I meet my maker in a smoldering heap? Does that make God less good or does it simply mean that the fall interfered with the original plan? Do I REALLY believe that I could do a better job if I had ultimate control? Those are questions I'm still struggling to answer. Even though answers come slowly the process of questioning has deepened my faith in who God is, and knowing him despite his silence has brought unfathomable peace to my tired soul.

I guess it's time to let faith conquer my fear, which means I'm going to have to start driving over those tall bridges with my eyes wide open. I'm fairly certain I'll survive, although I may end up with a bleeding ulcer before it's all said and done. Just remember, if you happen upon a maroon Saturn driving about 20 mph, please don't tailgate me and whatever you do PLEASE don't honk as that will startle me. Just smile and remember that I'm learning to trust and will eventually speed up to 25 mph!

The Female Brain

* Why are women serene one moment and apocalyptic the next?

* How can women remember conversations, events and emotions in precise detail?

* Why do women take everything so personally? (I'd LOVE an explanation for that one!)

Ah, just a few of the questions that have kept me up at night for the past 38 years, right up there with other biggies such as, "Why are violets blue instead of violet", "Why did Noah include roaches on the Ark", "What is the purpose of a training bra?" and "How would we know if a word was misspelled in the dictionary?" No wonder I can't sleep with so many important things to ponder.....

Of course, I've already figured out that PMS is responsible for my moods at least one week out of the month, but what explains why I'm a neurotic mess for the remaining 3 weeks? Thankfully, researchers have come to my rescue by spending countless hours and moolah attempting to understand the female brain. I'm guessing they're all men desperately seeking answers. God bless 'em.

HERE'S A BRIEF SYNOPSIS OF THEIR FINDINGS:

THE CORTEX-certain regions that control high-level computing are thicker (this does NOT mean women are thick-headed!) in the female brain. This is apparently why women see meaning in even the smallest of gestures. Of course, not I, I never read too much into anything, oh no. I'm perfectly balanced and always respond with love to offhanded comments such as, "I'd rather (insert event here) than spend time with you." That never causes me to respond with tears, slammed doors or the word jerk. Nope, not me..... Ha!

THE HIPPOCAMPUS-this is the place where memories are formed, and for the life of me I cannot remember why someone decided to include the prefix "hippo" when naming a part of the human body. Ugh, I already have a hippo complex! But I digress, apparently a larger "hippocampus" explains why women can remember even the most minute details of a conversation from 19 years ago. Or why we can remember random details from events in our childhood. For example, I can remember my best friend's phone number from 2nd grade - 512-625-0391, while mine was 512-629-0931, but ask me to remember a quote from a movie and I draw a blank. I remember relational and emotional things and very rarely forget them, which should scare the men in my life into taking notes or something. (Not that I remember everything, but I especially remember things that are important to people I care about.)

THE TEMPORAL LOBE CORTEX-this is the area that controls language processing and comprehension and women possess a much higher density of neurons. Explains why women are verbally fluent by nature. Yep, a well-written note or heartfelt conversation gets my attention every time because it speaks my language!

SEROTONIN-women have less of it than men do, and since this is a natural "happy" pill it makes sense that a woman can be perfectly content one minute and devastated the next by something as traumatic as a lost earring or a pimple. If I happen to be the next woman you encounter in a state of devastation the best approach is a hug and back rub - or a really strong margarita! Whatever you do, DO NOT offer advice (of course I'm speaking to men because women already know this about each other.) Just keep rubbing and filling up the glass until the Serotonin stabilizes.

So there you have it, the female brain in a nutshell. I'm glad they think they have it all figured out. At least I'll sleep better tonight now that I have an excuse, er, explanation for my neurosis!

Flying High Finale - Night Trains, Gypsies & Little Green Men

After recovering from the shock of Prague's Subway KGB the time came for me to move on to my next destination, Salzburg, Austria. I booked a night train, which allowed me to kill two birds with one stone by sleeping and traveling at the same time. I had lucked out with my last reservation and ended up traveling to Prague with 2 American women...that would NOT be the case on my return trip.

While inquiring about the status of my reservation I was utterly dismayed to learn that I would be sharing my compartment with a man. Apparently the other sleeping compartments were full and mine was the only one with any remaining beds. Now, I could lie and pretend that I didn't almost pee in my pants at that bit of news, but the reality is that I was TERRIFIED at the thought of being locked in a small compartment containing beds and a strange, foreign man.

Thankfully I possess what is known to friends and family as "the look" so by glaring at him with my evil eye I terrified him almost as much as he terrified me and thus ensured that he stayed in the hall smoking and drinking for most of the night. Late in the evening, after casting many nervous glances at me he finally found the courage to cautiously enter our shared compartment, lie down and sleep. While I felt some relief at the rhythmic sounds of his snoring, I soon faced a new dilemma, should I lock myself in with this drunk, snoring man or should I leave the door unlocked thus risking a robbery from infamous gypsy gangs known to board at various stops and steal from sleeping tourists? I waited until we were pulling up to the next stop and my fellow traveler was most definitely sleeping before I reached up and locked the door. I'm glad I did because the 2 times that door was rattled from the outside were unnerving, and whether or not the gypsy gangs were an urban legend or the source of those mysterious rattles, I felt safer with the door locked.

Bright and early the next morning, after sleeping for a scant 4 hours I got up to find that my passport and tickets were missing. PANIC! Did the strange foreign man take them during one of my brief naps in the middle of the night? I hastily unpacked and repacked my bags at least 3 times before locating the missing documents in my backpack. Poor foreign man, it wasn't his fault after all, apparently after one of those late night ticket checks I had tucked them into the wrong spot. Upon finding them I desperately clutched them to my chest as a few tears escaped my very tired eyes and then secured them in my "secret money belt" before heading off to find the train that would take me to my next destination.

Austria. A little jewel tucked into stunning mountains - it was gorgeous, and the people were so friendly and laid-back. Salzburg was my first stop and it was well worth the time and money. The birthplace of Mozart, the setting for "The Sound of Music", breathtaking flower-strewn meadows and hills that really did seem like they were alive....with the sound of music. I hummed the entire musical as I wandered all over and saw Mozart's home, the castle, the square, giant chess games, marionettes, youth choirs, gardens and outdoor classical music concerts. I even observed a wedding at the church made famous in the movie!

After walking all over I was soon thirsty so I stopped to buy a coke in a cute little store. An added bonus was that the coke was COLD - woohoo! The cashier put it in a small paper bag and I walked out to find the catacombs and cemetery just a few blocks away. I reverently strolled around the beautifully maintained tombs before finding an inviting bench to sit and enjoy my nice, cold coke. With the can still in the bag I popped the top and took a huge swig of what I thought was going to be sugary liquid. Instead my eyes teared and widened in shock at the taste of bitter, stout Austrian beer pricking my taste buds. I hastily pulled the can out of the bag and discovered that I had inadvertently grabbed beer, which I would have realized had I paid attention to the little green men dancing on the can. Coke does not have little green men! To top it off I didn't (and still don't) like beer. (Offer me wine or a mixed drink and I'll partake but beer? Not so much.) And remember, I was still in my BSF phase so beer was a big no-no. There I was in a cemetery, trying to remain solemn with a mouth full of beer I didn't like and wanted desperately to spit out without causing a scene. I DID NOT want to be a rude American so I casually walked to a trash can and emptied the contents of my mouth into it before angrily tossing the cold beer in as well. I did receive a few curious stares, probably because I threw away perfectly good beer, which is probably a sin in Europe, but I quickly slinked away to find water, because by then I was really thirsty and I wanted the beer taste out of my mouth ASAP. Of course the shop I purchased the beer from was closed because it was lunch time and as I realized too late there was nothing that would keep a European from closing for a 3-hour lunch! My best option was the Casino's outdoor, rooftop restaurant so I hiked to the top and replaced the beer's aftertaste with coke, lasagna and the most magnificent view of Salzburg.

The remainder of the my first European adventure was spent in Innsbruck, where I learned of the O.J. Simpson drama from Time Magazine and visited the Olympic Village. I moved on to Garmisch, Germany, which is a wonderful little resort town high in the mountains and stayed in a quaint home with a private bathroom and balcony overlooking the Zugspitze. While there I enjoyed the local Pizza Hut (I was missing American food at that point) and an American cinema where I watched City Slickers 2. I took the cable car to the top of the mountain where I was rewarded with fresh snow and amazing views of Austria and Switzerland and thoroughly enjoyed relaxing in such a stunning place. Upon returning to Munich for my last day in Europe I wandered the city, poked in and out of churches and museums and made sure to eat lots of bratwurst, schnitzel and fresh fruit - especially the sweet, ripe cherries.

What an adventure! Despite a few "Chevy Chase" moments and embarrassing, silly mistakes I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything. They helped shape me into the woman I am today and I am better because of them. I grew up a lot on that trip and discovered more about myself and my faith than I thought possible. Now I'm off to plan my next adventure, which will hopefully include Slovenia and perhaps Croatia in February 2009!

The Evil Stomach Monster

Last Saturday dawned bright and clear and I woke up happy and feeling less stress than I had for several months. My new job was looking good, I was in a healthy state of mind and I was relaxed. I spent the day puttering and running errands and just doing normal Saturday stuff. And then the evil stomach monster arrived at my door....

After returning from the grocery store and hauling my loot upstairs I felt the sudden need for a nap. Since it was Saturday I allowed myself that little luxury and ended up dozing for 2 hours. When I finally opened my eyes I felt achy and a little nauseated so I decided to eat some tortillas or bread. Now I don't buy white tortillas or white bread, I buy the "healthful" stuff, and while that's generally a better option, let me just state for the record that it's not really a good idea to eat a lot of fiber when your tummy has been invaded by an evil monster. I just hadn't met the evil monster yet so I didn't know I was provoking him.

You know what I did? I ate 2 high fiber, whole grain tortillas, watched a movie, emailed and read some blogs before crawling into bed. By 2:00 am I was wide awake and bathed in sweat, spasms of pain causing me to physically cry out as I made a run to the bathroom. After getting a good view of my porcelain throne I crawled back into bed, still not aware of how seriously angry this particular monster was with me. I was soon to find out though as I awoke to the same scene for the next several hours wondering exactly where I had gone wrong. The thought of driving to the hospital crossed my mind, but since I was in between health coverage due to my new job and a delay in my COBRA paperwork, I was reluctant to spend the night in the E.R. and pay thousands of dollars in medical expenses. I still naively thought that I had a case of food poisoning and I began mentally placing blame on Chick-fil-A or India Palace, the last 2 places I had eaten.

Sunday was really no better. I skipped church and barely made it to my nephew's birthday party before driving to Walgreens to try to find something to help me ease the stomach cramps. After arriving home I showered and crawled into bed at 6:00 pm and tried to sleep. But nope, that was NOT gonna happen. Approximately every 2 hours I felt the need to bow before the great throne of porcelain before crawling back into bed hoping for relief. And to make matters worse, I had an unwelcome, uninvited monthly visitor show up at about 3:15 am. That did NOT help matters because although I like many of my relatives, Aunt Flo is at the bottom of my list, (pun intended) and she always makes me grumpy.....

Monday I was awake bright and early because calling in sick was not an option, I took a shower, dressed and left for work clutching a bag of crackers. I spent a lot of time resting my head on my desk after running to and from the bathroom. I'm sure my staff was wondering what exactly was going on..... At lunch I tried to sit in the break room and chat, but I was so ill that I ended up in my office sleeping with my head on my desk for over an hour. My Billing Manager awakened me and looked very concerned when she noted how pale I was, but I didn't have time to chat instead I grabbed the trash can, which effectively ended her stay in my office... My boss stopped by, took one look at me and told me to get downstairs to the surgical center for an immediate IV. I was so sick that I didn't even argue, even when I arrived downstairs and the nurse told me to undress. Normally when a co-worker tells me to disrobe I do not obey!

I laid there in severe pain, shivering as the IV pumped cold liquid into my veins. My parents arrived and waited with me until I was finally released and told to go straight home. Now my parents do not know the Stone Oak area and I am new to it myself. I also tend to be impatient and cranky when I'm ill, and I hate having to explain things so I fear I was not very nice to my poor dad as he kept questioning my directions for how to get home. Finally I convinced him to trust me and off we drove with my mother in hot pursuit, dad pedaling really fast and avoiding a wreck while I unexpectedly emptied the rest of the contents of my stomach into a plastic bag. Poor dad.

The remainder of Monday was miserable. My boss called me, prescribed medication and gave me strict instructions of what to do. Every 2 hours I would awaken crying and delirious; at one point I was seriously CONVINCED that I had seen the face of Jesus in the toilet bowl. I AM NOT KIDDING, I would have sworn to that under oath at the time. I was obviously really sick, and I was terrified because I'd never experienced a hallucination, let alone a sacrilegious one and I don't want to experience another one ever again!

I hugged the porcelain for the last time Tuesday morning and my sweet mom delivered medication and Pedialyte. I was still impatient and cranky but the medication at least quelled the vomiting and put me to sleep. Wednesday I arrived at work at 10:30 and stayed for just 3 1/2 hours before heading home again. I was weak and exhausted and running a fever and the doctor told me to go, so I did! I spent the day trying to get comfortable but my back was killing me after I had pulled every muscle repeatedly for the last 72 hours. Later that day I drank some water and finished my first bottle of Pedialyte before falling asleep at 7:15 pm.

Thursday I worked all day but took frequent naps. I managed to make it home before passing out and then had a friend deliver bananas - a safe food according to the BRAT diet. I partook of my first solid food, 1/2 a banana chased by 1/2 a bottle of Mango flavored Pedialyte and then fell asleep on my sofa, which helped support my aching back. By Friday morning I was feeling human again. I worked a full day without a nap and was actually somewhat productive. I did drive straight home and take a nap after work but I was able to eat another banana and drink enough water to keep me hydrated. I also stayed up until 10:00 pm watching a movie and returning emails I hadn't checked for a week.

Today was a complete day of rest. Nothing but movies, the Olympics, reading and a lot of sleeping. Tomorrow promises to be the same, there is NO WAY I am risking a relapse. Thankfully India Palace was not to blame, but instead a nasty, evil stomach monster. I really, really hope you never meet him. But if you do, just know that Mango or Fruit flavored Pedialyte trumps the unflavored version every time. And if you're not blessed enough to know a really good GI doctor, I sure can recommend one. I am grateful that he took such good care of me and he has forever earned my respect, loyalty and trust, which is really hard to do.