Counting Blessings

On Sunday night, I finally left my bubble to retrieve my car. Houston is a completely different city right now. I could not believe my eyes. Traffic lights dangling precariously in intersections, city streets as dark as Idaho's dirt roads, pockets of electricity surrounded by dark voids of homes and businesses, huge bulky sheets of metal twisted and crinkled like aluminum foil, peeled back from roofs, carports, and gas station awnings. The city has a 9pm curfew; no ice or potable tap water. People lined up outside grocery stores waiting for their turn to get in, formations reminiscent of Depression-era bread lines. It's like something out of a novel set in a different time and place.

I went into work today. The ambulance company I've worked for over the past two summers was stretched thin and needed more EMTs. I agreed to come in today (Monday) and tomorrow to fill in the gaps. When I made it to the station, I was surprised to find the building- less than five miles from the comforts of my home- still without power (along with 3/4 of Houston earlier today). One of the ambulances was running outside the office with a stretch of cords running from the battery through the open window to the dispatcher inside. The diesel truck was jury-rigged to power the phone, radio chargers, and TV. During the day, we weren't as busy as I thought because all of the clinics and doctors' offices were shut down, and hospitals weren't discharging patients to unsafe homes. We did take a couple calls from the jail. Because our response time lagged a bit navigating the unregulated city grid, we arrived just moments too late to deliver a baby! Shucks!

Driving around Houston allowed me to survey the damage a bit more. Trees and power lines were down everywhere. It will take a very long time to clean up this mess. Billboards toppled, houses crushed, streets littered with debris contributed to the chaos. Gas stations everywhere were either out of gas or electricity, boarded up by owner-turned-evacuees, or destroyed. I saw less than half a dozen working stations; each of these had lines of DOZENS of cars for the few working pumps. One station even had a line of 20+ people on foot, standing in line, waiting to fill up their red 5-gallon jugs of gas. I wish I had my camera. I saw it and I can barely believe it.

Three of my med school classmates are looking for new apartments after pipes burst and rendered theirs uninhabitable. I wish I could offer them more than just a pull-out sofa while they are hunting for new housing. I saw a FEMA crew from Nevada today; they've been here since Gustav threatened the area nearly two weeks ago. I bet it's hard to be away from their own lives, homes, and families. Today's stories and sights reminded me how fortunate I am. Every once in a while it's good to put problems into perspective, I think. I'm so lucky to have made it through Ike without serious consequence. I certainly have been counting my blessings.