No Phone – problem?

I worked Friday, then worked through the weekend, then Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. No worries. I did this on purpose. I was excited about going to Ocracoke on Thursday. Why not throw in an extra day or so prior to vacationing?

Wednesday night I received a phone call that my brother was in the hospital. He called me himself. He stated he had DKA (diabetic ketoacidosis). I was concerned. He didn’t sound right. His words were slurring, he was skipping words, and forgetting words. Sometimes what he said didn’t make any sense. I asked to speak with his nurse to ensure they knew that his voice patterns weren’t normal for him. She took me seriously and made certain the doctor would know.

My concerns, although warranted, were exaggerated because on Saturday one of my coworker’s sons had just died from DKA; same age, same diagnosis, same danger. I reminded myself, one person’s misfortune does not make it mine and to allow myself to be comforted with knowing that although a possibility, my brother was where he needed to be and there was nothing I was able to change or ensure for the future.

That was Wednesday night. I texted my sisters and spoke with my dad. They all knew to check on him. Then I went to bed.

The next morning, I woke up happily anticipating gathering the rest of my things and heading to Swan Quarter to catch the ferry. I picked up my phone to check for missed messages.

The phone screen showed a message in multiple languages stating ‘WARNING’. And there was no way to move beyond it. No ability to reset the phone, no ability to turn it off, to change screens, nothing. The only option I had was to contact the company.

The next 45 minutes I attempted to go through tech support and problem solve. Then I gave up. I had a ferry to catch.

BUT:

• I didn’t know where to catch it
• how to get there
• what time it was leaving
• whether my brother was okay
• what I was going to do to keep in touch with my family
• how I was going to contact those I was meeting
• where I was meeting anyone

Thankfully, I am a Gen X gal. I know how to problem solve.

While home, I used my computer to gather the information I needed and wrote it in my little black book. (My printer does not currently function.)

By the time I arrived at the ferry, my life was changed.

How can a short 1-hour change a person’s life? Truthfully, it takes less than a second.

Several thoughts occurred to me while driving, since I wasn’t able to listen to anything, text, or do anything but think; and occasionally check my hand-written directions.

• I hope I wrote down the directions right.
• Turn here, how many miles? Look at the odometer, calculate when I need to look for the next turn.
• I’m literally in the middle of nowhere.
• When people settled here it was probably like this but flooded and with more trees.
• Why is it called Albemarle Historic Highway anyway?
• Wow! That brick white church must be old!
• Are there alligators?
• That waterway looks like the one I brought my boat through. I miss my boat.
• I’m excited. I’m looking for my boat again. She will be amazing. Minimally, solo-sailable, sloop, 35 feet or so, less than 40. Livable, truly. I will have a better boat than last.
• Time. What on earth is time? Yes. I have a watch.

What else occurred to me was this: I am so extremely blessed! There is no better time to be forced to disconnect than when you are with friends you love, doing things you love and living the life you love.

To have my phone break at this exact moment was a gift, a gift I never would have known.

I know I will replace my phone, I must. It will again be an attachment to my body as before. I hope, though, that this time I will recognize how interruptive it can be and make strides to reducing that interruption.

I know I will continue to learn, love, and enjoy life to the best of my ability. I deserve to.

The future is unknown, the past is gone, allow the present be the gift it is meant to be.

We are worth it.

Thank you for reading,

Dr. Wendi