Although I just returned home from yet another call shift that I could talk about for hours, one that was hard and busy and which, yet again, made me wish I had someone right here who could go over my patients with me to make sure I had made good decisions, to reassure me that those looks I got when I gave my change of shift report were only looks of concentration and not necessarily looks of distrust, disgust or disapproval. Even though I triaged patients for 7 hours straight, even though I sent two of them home and know I will be kept up for at least part of the night thinking about how they are doing…even though all this is true, I would like to reserve this particular blog entry for non-OB or midwifery related events.
First, my car was the victim of a middle of the night hit and run operation two nights ago. And I just have to say, with everything else going on in my life, professionally, personally, emotionally, it was a little more than I could handle. It had been one of those nights where I woke up every hour on the hour. And then, at 5am, I heard a screech and a crush and I heard a car alarm go off. “That couldn’t be mine.” I thought to myself. But my gut was telling me something else. “Of course it’s yours. It’s yours for sure. It sounds just like your alarm. And it sounds like it’s coming from right where you parked your car.” It said.
“Go back to sleep” My head said. “You have a busy day at clinic tomorrow.”
“Get up and check on your car.” My gut said. “If you at least know for sure it was your car you can start thinking about how to deal with it instead of lying in bed dreading what the car looks like.”
Well, I did get up. I looked out the window, I tried to see my car but couldn’t. And even though I crawled back into bed, I never fell back to sleep. I spent the next two hours trying to convince myself that it was possible that that crushing sound was not the metal on my car but, perhaps, someone else’s. But when I finally walked outside, it was clear. No one else had been hit but me. The front of the car looked ok. The driver’s side looked ok, even the back looked ok. I was starting to think that maybe it really wasn’t my car’s alarm that had gone off! Miracles really do happen! But as I edged around the passenger side I saw the damage. Both doors on that side had been bashed in, scraped. The part of the car over the back tire was smashed up and the door looked like it wasn’t closed completely. Was there a note? A message from someone saying, “Hey, I hit you. I’m so sorry. Let me handle all the payment/repair etc. Just give me a call. I am so so sorry.” Of course not. No note. Just some black paint left on the front of the right side of the car. Thank you. Thank you very much.
My heart and my gut and my entire body sank when I saw my car. I knew it was repairable but having to deal with the logistics of getting all the repairs done, reporting the damage to my insurance company, having to be without a car while the repairs are being done…can’t we just rewind to last night and I can promise to park on the OTHER side of the street so my car would have been unscathed this morning when I walked out to head to work? It’s times like these you can easily convince yourself that the universe is against you. And for me, it’s times like these I like to seek reassurance from mom and dad. I don’t know why. I just needed to feel sorry for myself and I felt like they, more than anyone else in the world, would just be there for me. And they were, thank god. My mom was an emotional rock. My father was a logistical hero.
“It’s going to be okay.” My mom said. “These things happen, and you can’t turn back the clock. And you will just deal with it. You will. One step at a time.”
“What’s the number of your insurance company?” My dad said. “Email that to me and also whatever kind of claim number you got from your insurance company when you reported it this morning.”
So I did. And by 10am, he had saved the day. Told me where to take my car after work, told me the name of the guy at the repair shop who he spoke with and who was expecting my call to set up an arrival time, told me who to talk to from my insurance company and what to tell them about my plans for which auto body shop I would be using for repairs. Could I have done all that on my own? Of course. Did it feel like my father, in that moment, was saving my life and my emotional sanity a little bit? No question about it. Yes.
And I had to laugh when both of my parents, during separate phone conversations that morning, offered their philosophy/advice on the situation. What each of them chose to focus on was so different from the other and it is so clear to me that I am an almost equal combination of both of their brains.
“It was probably someone high on drugs.” My mom said. Not a “drunk driver”. Not someone who may have lost control of the car for a moment. But someone “high on drugs” she thought.
My dad, on the other hand, says to me, “It’s not a problem if you can solve it with money.” And honestly, it sort of left me speechless. This statement is so utterly and completely true for my father. He really does live this philosophy. And, if you have the money, thinking about a problem this way really does take some of the pressure off. “There are so many other much worse things that could happen.” He said. “Cancer, heartbreak, things you can’t fix. Let’s just get this taken care of.” And it really did make me feel better. About the car anyway.
I brought my car to the repair shop after work (my last patient didn’t even show up so things were looking good) and things went off without a hitch. I got a rental car (that unfortunately smells like vomit) so my weekend plans are still intact. Sadly, they think the work will take at least a week which is amazing to me when my car is still drivable, no airbags were deployed and the damage honestly seems sort of superficial. Nope. It’s gonna cost over 5 freaking thousand dollars. They just called me with the estimate yesterday. I need two new doors, new paint, some new panel on the back of the car…the list goes on. I am so thankful that I recently changed my deductible. More on that as information becomes available.
Okay, the second thing I would like to speak to you about is the recent presidential address. I watched this state of the union sort of speech on tv in the comfort of my own home like many others probably did and will admit to you that, when Bush was president I rarely tuned in to similar events. I would watch for a minute or two and become so embarrassed for him, our country, myself even, that I had to change the channel. I feel like with this new administration I am making a fresh start. I am here and now committing to staying apprised and aware of the presidents opinions and decisions, because finally, I kind of care. What I would like to talk about here though, more importantly, is: did you see Nancy Pelosi???!!! Is she a complete freak or is it just me?? Mark my words, SNL will for sure do a spoof on her activities during Obama’s speech on Saturday night. It was unbelievable. There was so much uping and downing throughout the entire hour speech. Standing up and clapping, sitting down and continuing to clap. Standing up again and clapping harder! And
If you haven’t seen the address yet, or if you just listened to it on your radio, I urge you to find a clip of it on you tube. Experience my disbelief. And while you at it, answer me this question, that “middle schooler” that was there as the president’s guest? What was up with that dress? Was she in 7th grade or was she seventy? Whatever the case, something was definitely wrong.
I’m off to a little CNM reunion this weekend. Some of the women I graduated with are headed back to the town in which we went to grad school to eat and chat and vent and share. I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks. The drive, seeing faces I haven’t seen since graduation, change of pace, change of scenery, good food…I’ve, of course, already created a game that I’m hoping to convince everyone to play but, if I get outvoted, I’ll be content to just be there.
I’m already running late.
As my therapist says: To be continued…
1 comment:
man, sorry about your car. that sucks. Glad your parents were helpful. Didn't your car get stolen last year, too (or had it just been moved by the city without any explanation)?
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