A new kind of disaster nightmare
Yesterday we had some crazy weather roll into Bucks County. Hot and humid with thunderstorms expected, I ran out to pick up some work gloves, and some birthday cake ingredients. There was already a rare tornado watch in effect, but no one was taking that seriously, but while I was out it turned into a warning. The sky went dark and opened up an incredible torrent of rain just as I was leaving the grocery store, and I quickly made my way home through streets already flooding.
When I got home Stephanie, Wes, Ruth and a neighbor were already in the basement, so I gathered supplies – more flashlights, better shoes, bottles of water, etc. – and joined them. The warning was lifted and then reinstated a few times, amidst one of the most lively thunderstorms I’ve ever heard. We lost power briefly, the roof started to leak upstairs, and we had some water intrusion in the basement, but for the most part it was more exciting than terrifying.
We stayed downstairs for a while – thankfully, Wes wasn’t alarmed (unlike the animals) so we made the best of it, having some wine, watching some terrible TV on my laptop. Eventually things settled down to just a heavy storm, the tornado watch expired, and we emerged. Wes quickly grew tired and ready for bed, so they all tucked in for the night.
I stayed up a while, but also got tired early, so headed upstairs myself. What unfolded all night was a series of nightmares – I’m not particularly prone to them – with a new twist that has stuck with me, and will continue to.
These several terrible dreams were all variations on typical disaster scenarios – earthquakes, floods, invasions. The few times I can recall having disaster dreams they were more adventure than nightmare, but this time was different, and why it’s relevant to this blog.
Each scenario involved us having to escape some kind of social breakdown or loss of infrastructure – in one, a massive flood; another it seemed like Philadelphia had been nuked. All tragic scenes, but we were intact, and fairly well prepared (not for nothing but I was practically raised by the film Red Dawn).
What was different this time was the realization that Wes depends on infrastructure in a way the rest of us don’t. He can’t just go live off the grid, hunting and fishing and drinking from creeks – he has a very compromised immune system, chemo appointments to keep, and his survival depends on sticking to his treatment protocol – millions of dollars in drugs and high tech equipment and specialists seeing him several times a week, not on owning a 4×4, and a rifle, and plenty of outdoor gear.
I don’t have a serious fantasy about surviving a nuclear holocaust, but I do like to be prepared for basic disasters – earthquakes and floods, for instance. Only last night did it occur to me that I’m no longer even remotely prepared.
