A Little Disaster Preparedness is Always a Good Thing

November is almost gone and so is my little blogging holiday. It's been fun sharing some favorite blog posts from Breathe In Breathe Out's history. I look forward to sharing further adventures in womanhood as they ambush me. This post from last fall isn't an experience I'm anxious to repeat, but as long as I'm navigating my various roles, some human error is bound to occur. That's when things get interesting.

I could always stand to brush up on my...

Disaster Preparedness

We don’t have hurricanes in Colorado. We do have blizzards, but all the preparation they require is a trip to the store for milk and chocolate chip cookie ingredients.

Nevertheless, I like to be prepared for emergencies.

That’s why on the first day of school I went to the office and picked up the required paperwork to keep my son’s rescue inhaler at the school. I was wearing my Evangeline is A Responsible Parent hat. EARP for short.

That’s also why I made arrangements to lie low this weekend while adjusting to a new migraine medication that has a lot of possible side effects. It’s a good thing too, because Saturday was weird. I was dizzy and sleepy and at one point, deep. I tried to explain this to Kory.

He asked me if I felt hyper-aware of my surroundings.

“No,” I said, “just deep.”

He said, “You mean, profound?”

I said, “No, just deep.”

Considering my new-found affinity with the Mariana Trench, we agreed that Grandma would drive the boys to school this morning on her way to the YMCA. After all, driving while dizzy and “deep” would not qualify me to wear my EARP hat.

So Mom and the boys scooted off to school, and I tooled around the house for awhile. Then, right as I was getting in the shower, and I do mean right, the phone rang.

I grabbed a towel and answered it.

“Mrs. Denmark, we have your son here in the office. He needs to use his inhaler.”

Hand to forehead. Towel to floor.

You see, while I did wear my EARP hat to pick up the paperwork, I didn’t keep it on long enough to fill out said paperwork and get it and the medication back to the school.

What’s a drugged, naked, vehicle-less woman to do?

They reassured me that it wasn’t an emergency. Monkey was wheezing but not having an attack. I knew Mom was probably in the pool doing her water exercises and wouldn’t be able to get out quickly. I couldn’t think much beyond that, so I decided to ride my bike—under the influence—to the school and deliver my son’s inhaler.

Thank God I put clothes on first.

I did fine until I needed to cross the street. I don’t know why I didn’t do it at the crosswalk as I rode out of our neighborhood. I guess I figured there would be another opportunity further up the road. Or maybe I thought dolphins would appear and ferry me across the street on their backs.

I kept riding, going past the road I needed to turn on to get to the school. I was now almost to the YMCA where my van was parked. Finally, I just got off my bike and jaywalked across the street and back in the direction I needed to go.

I’m pretty sure I never got back on my bike after that. I do remember walking up to the school and catching sight of myself in the reflective front door. My bicycle helmet was on backwards.

I got Monkey his inhaler and—minor miracle—got myself home again.

But somewhere along the way I lost my EARP hat. I’m probably going to have to get another one anyway. Something like Parent Fail Trust (PFT!) or Do Not Leave Unattended (DNLU), or Doesn’t Understand Medication or Bicycling (DUMB). Or maybe just Woman Trying to Function (WTF).