20 Seconds to Toast

A little less that three weeks ago my downstairs neighbor came home from work after midnight and decided to fry potatoes.  After getting them started he took his computer, sat down in his living room to surf the net and promptly fell asleep.  Due to a severe hearing problem he did not hear his smoke alarm go off and when he finally awakened to the smell of smoke, there was a small fire already spreading in the kitchen. He panicked and attempted to put out the grease fire by spraying it with water.  It was the worst mistake he could have made.  The fire erupted, catching the rest of the kitchen, dining room and hallway on fire.  Instead of dialing 911 he tried to find a fire extinguisher, wasting precious seconds. Finally he called for help and firefighters were dispatched.  He grabbed his laptop and went outside, leaving the front door open as he fled.  He proceeded to lean against the tree waiting for help, while his neighbors slept, unaware of what was happening.  

Meanwhile a neighbor living on the other side of the complex heard popping noises and thought that a car was being vandalized.  He went outside and saw the flames and immediately called 911 while his wife called my next door neighbor to tell him to get out.  She didn't have my number but screamed my name repeatedly to attempt to awaken me.  I never heard her.  My next door neighbor called me but my phone volume was off and I was blissfully asleep, completely unaware that a fire was now raging below me as he screamed into his phone for me to get out.

Just a few minutes later Zeus awakened me, acting like he had made a mess.  It was 2:00 am and I was groggy but got up to see if I needed to clean up after him.  He followed me with his tail down, obviously very upset. Then I noticed the smell of burning plastic and began to look around.  I could not find anything upstairs so I went down and continued looking.  Then I noticed that the apartment was hazy and just as I got to the back patio door and saw flames shooting up my smoke alarm began blaring.

I dialed 911 in a panic and was told that firefighters were on their way.  I heard their sirens as they pulled up and in near hysteria begged the operator for help.  He told me I had to leave the apartment immediately.  I told him there were flames shooting up my patio so he told me to go to the front door.  If it was cool I was to open it and escape down the front stairs.  I opened it and was overcome with thick, black smoke.  I quickly slammed it shut and told him there was too much smoke.  He told me I had no choice but to leave immediately, the fire was out of control and I had to get out.  I was terrified and forgot everything I had ever learned about fire safety.  A moist wash cloth to cover my face?  It never even occurred to me.  Crouch and stay low?  Are you kidding me?  I just wanted to run.  I couldn't fathom how I could stay low as I was going down a flight of stairs.  Unfortunately I had no alternative but to try to get out so I grabbed my dog and my purse, put on some flip flops and opened the door.  

A thick wall of billowing smoke greeted me as I opened the door again and being in a panic I was gasping instead of holding my breath.  I was immediately disoriented as I breathed the toxic fumes and could not figure out where I was in relation to my apartment, even though I had just stepped outside of my front door.  I was confused about whether I had gone down any stairs; I simply could not tell up from down or right from left.  As I tried to descend the first section of stairs I was losing consciousness and began to fall, quickly grabbing the railing which was fiery hot from the smoke, unaware that I burned my fingers.  I screamed at the 911 operator, asking why no one was helping me and then dropped the phone.  My last conscious thought was that I was going to die on the landing, and how I now knew why smoke inhalation killed so quickly.  I was just steps from clean air and safety but I couldn't see it or get to it and I could no longer breathe.  Had the firefighters not been rushing up the stairs to get me, it is likely that Zeus and I would have died.

It was a terrifying experience that left me in shock for several days.  I've had many nightmares from being trapped in the smoke, trying to get to safety only to crumble in a heap on the landing, poisoned by toxic smoke.  I've shed many tears and lost my lunch more than once at the thought of how close I came to dying a tragic death.   It was a sobering reminder that life is fragile and precious when I was told that firefighters said that I was "20 seconds to toast".   Yikes. 

There are many pieces to pick up in order for me to rebuild.  Everything I own was either damaged or destroyed.  My physical health has suffered and I still have a nagging cough and bronchitis triggered by breathing so much smoke.  For almost 2 weeks I coughed up black soot and nursed my charred fingers, trying to be thankful that I was not crispy, but only lightly toasted...

There are so many more things to share about the aftermath that I will post later.  Suffice it to say that the last 3 1/2 months of my life have been almost more than I can bear.  Neurosurgery, a layoff, unemployment, a new job and now a fire have left me wounded, raw and exhausted.  Yet I'm grateful for a God who walks with me, a community of people who love, serve, challenge and care for me despite my circumstances, and last but not least a little hero who made sure I was awake and saved both of us from certain death.  More than ever I am happy to be alive despite the circumstances of late, aware that at any given time I am no more than 20 seconds to toast.

Priceless Scars

• Kayak  $800
• Life jacket  $100
• Cooler  $50
• Drowning and miraculously living to tell about it?  Priceless

My cousin Cole could be the new spokesperson for MasterCard. In mid-September he drowned while kayaking.  No one knows how long he was under the water, but it was too long.  One friend ran for help, the other dragged him from the water while performing CPR.  When he arrived at the hospital he was  unconscious and the prognosis was not good.  We all hoped and prayed that he would survive while we prepared ourselves for the worst.    

It was touch and go for awhile.  He was immediately put in a hypothermic state to slow down the damage to his organs.   When he awoke from his drug-induced coma he was miserable, but managed to display his dry sense of humor before intense abdominal pain led to emergency surgery.  Over a  foot of his colon was removed, likely damaged by the kayak or oars while he was under the water.  He was on dialysis for approximately 6 weeks, but a few weeks ago his kidneys finally began functioning on their own.  The good people at RIOSA confirmed that he had no brain damage and little physical damage.  He doesn't remember the accident but he suffers nightmares nonetheless.  He is healing but is too skinny now, his skin stretching uncomfortably over his formerly muscular, 6'11 frame.  Cole is alive, and our family is unbelievably grateful, but he has scars now. 

We all have scars. I don't know about you, but I am always aware of the wounds that caused mine.  Although they are not physically obvious they've left jagged little marks all over my life, and I've resented them for many years.  Only lately have I begun to realize the limitless value of those ugly marks.  Of course I wish that the wounds had never occurred. I wish there was nothing unsightly marring my desired perfect state, no hideous memories to haunt me.  But the scars remain despite my denial.  Now they are priceless because they remind me that I'm a survivor.  They remind me of valuable lessons and confirm that I have a purpose.  They focus my passion for justice and deepen my faith.  They have become priceless because I have chosen to use them to my advantage instead of living in the bitterness of the original wounds.  They have become priceless because they have shown me the way to peace in the absence of answers.

Every time I see or feel my scars I am aware that I survived for a reason and that I have a purpose.  I pray that every time Cole looks at the jagged marks on his own body he remembers that he survived and was spared for a purpose too.  I pray the same for you.

Happy Things

A few weeks ago as this latest season of thanks was blown in on the cool, fall breeze, I began my annual tradition of reflecting on the things for which I'm overwhelmingly grateful. Obviously I have an infinite number of reasons to humbly offer my gratitude to the Almighty, and trust me I do - obsessively. But, aside from the never changing blessings of my faith, health, job and freedom - I have an eclectic list of things that bring me joy. Here is a small, by no means exhaustive, list of some of my most recent, favorite, "happy things":

* Run on sentences, keep reading and you'll see why; it would be truly impossible for me to blog or journal without them!

* Good, original, funky, contemporary art with amazing colors, interesting composition and unexpected form, it has made decorating my place so much more exciting, especially when I find something unique that no one else will ever have.

* Hummus, I think I should invest in it because I eat it almost every day without fail. I like all varieties and shovel it in like a starving, desperate woman instead of a civilized, obviously well-fed American. It's too good for me to pass up and I hope I never have to live without it. Yummy!


* Pedicures are such a delightful way to spend an hour, what could be better than someone massaging my feet and calves, putting goopy, smelly green stuff on my feet and scrubbing off my callouses to reveal soft, smooth skin all before painting my toenails in lovely shades of "Rosy Mistletoe" (complete with daisies to decorate my big toe), "Let Them Eat Cake", "Smokin' in Havana" or "Grand Canyon Sunset"?

* Mineral makeup that doesn't cake or sink into the "fine lines" that have sprouted on my once smooth face. This stuff is great, comes with an SPF of 15 and doesn't fade as quickly as liquid makeup, which I loathe anyway; it also doesn't rub off on my clothes and does a fairly decent job of covering my "spots" as my nephew likes to call them. I'm a believer and there's no goin' back now, look for me on the next infomercial!


* Soy Chai, from Starbuck's to Serina's I don't care just serve it to me hot and I'm happy, this stuff is ADDICTIVE (thanks for getting me hooked Serina) and a very nice treat when the weather is cool and I'm tired of diet soda.

* 1010987. I LOVE those 7 digits because dialing them symbolizes one of the best parts of my week, the chance to talk to Laurie for a good hour or two, even if it is usually at some horribly early hour on this side of the Atlantic when I should be snoring, but instead find myself dialing the magic numbers that let us stay connected, INEXPENSIVELY, even though there are thousands of miles and 7 hours between us.

* Cheap gas - $1.65/gal yesterday, I haven't paid that little since 2005!!! Although as a side note, I must add that I would be even MORE grateful if "W" and Dick would try to rectify at least one of their many booboos and "encourage" their greedy, price-gouging, CEO friends to refund us lowly middle class folk for all of the overpriced gas we were forced to purchase the past 3 years....okay, back to happy things!

* Silence - which mostly brings me peace, serenity and rest, especially if I have my candles lit and the air is scented with a mix of spices, and I'm wearing my pink plaid flannel jammies. I crave silence, which scares me on some level because it confirms that I have officially turned into an old fogey, as evidenced by my near panic attacks at the thought of too much noise and/or chaos, unless I'm at a concert or something, at which point silence is way overrated. But, I have to be honest and admit that sometimes I can't stand the silence and freak out and become completely irrational and difficult to handle. This usually occurs when I'm in the throes of PMS and as Laurie, Serina or Steph can attest to, it's NOT pretty, which leads me to my next happy thing.....

* Girlfriends. How would anyone of us survive our emotions, men, families, fashion and PMS without a girlfriend, or two, or three, or four, to listen to us whine, moan, kvetch, vent and over analyze every word, action, deed or encounter we have with every single person in a given day? And HOW would we ever go to the bathroom alone or know what to expect when contemplating hair dye, new laundry detergent, lipstick shades and the best shampoo? Impossible to imagine.

* Malibu Castle - okay, to be honest I don't really love this place for me, BUT I do love to spend time with my nephews and THEY love this place, so that means I love it by default because it makes them happy and I get to watch and participate in their happiness, which in turn makes me happy! Got that?

* Road trips are still fun even after experiencing so many of them, especially when I don't have to drive - watching the miles pass by, wondering about the drivers and passengers in other cars, singing with abandon, keeping an eye out for the next bathroom, trying to figure out how to read the map/directions so we don't get horribly lost in an unfamiliar city - been there, done that! (note to self - on a map, "W" is an abbreviation for "West" not our outgoing President......)

* My Personal Trainer - as I type this I'm forcing myself to be grateful because her idea of a workout is more like my idea of torture. And since she won the battle of wills today I can barely walk, instead I'm kind of hobbling like a pirate with a peg leg after pushing 260 pounds with my calves. Do I hear a collective ouch? BUT, when I get out the measuring tape and see that I have lost 3 inches off of my waist and 3 inches off of my hips I become exceedingly grateful that she has a sadistic side, so I'm signing up for more torture and investing my money in the gym, the stock market is too volatile anyway!

* India Palace - the BEST Indian Food in San Antonio. Which means I should thank Rene for introducing me to my favorite haunt....and Lane for making sure I get my fix on a regular basis....and Laurie for indulging me when she would rather have had Mexican food....and Amy for trying something new when I had a craving and an interview across the street. Oh, the list goes on and on.....India Palace is a VERY happy thing!

* Clay Casa - even though I'm a "wannabe" when it comes to art, this place lets me be creative in a variety of ways - painting pottery, piecing together mosaics, glass fusion and now silver jewelry molding. Woohoo!!! AND, my niece usually goes with me so I get to spend 3 hours of quality time being creative with her, which is more fun than spending 3 hours being creative alone, unless I'm in my silent mode.....

* Family, even the crazy ones. They make me laugh (and cry) and give me someone to "blame" for my neurosis. They also remind me of where I come from and sometimes scare me with visions of how I'll look when I'm old......Dad, did you HAVE to pass on your chin and thighs to me??? Seriously, those really should have gone to the boys!

* Friends, people who love me, or TRY to because they WANT to, NOT because they have to. WOW, it's completely overwhelming to share my very messy life with people who could easily and with good reason choose to walk away from my complicated, neurotic self. Thanks for sticking it out with me. Because you love me well and practice the type of community modeled by Christ I have found deep healing and a safe place to discover who I am. For you I'm most grateful.