Five Things I Don’t Want To Be Doing During An Earthquake

As a California resident I am reminded of the importance of earthquake preparedness on a daily basis. I know we are overdue and I do have certain items in place in case of emergency but the biggest danger is that you don’t know where you will be when it hits. It would be nice to have ample warning so you could get yourself to an open field because it isn’t the earthquake that injures people it’s falling objects.

Of course we all pray that we won’t be in an elevator, under the freeway overpass, in a sports stadium or in a bowling ball warehouse but yesterday I gave serious consideration to five things I would prefer not to be doing during an earthquake.  

1.     Getting a Mammogram. Believe it or not, I always ask the technician where the emergency release switch is. I can only imagine the tech running from the room as the shaking starts leaving me to ride out the quake with one breast trapped.

2.     At the Beauty Salon. Because I have those ‘natural’ highlights added to my hair the procedure makes me look like a missing person poster for a Reynolds Wrap employee. Running elbow to elbow with several other women donning layers of hair filled foil ravioli on our heads sounds like a joyless race to me.

3.     At the Dentist. Since I haven’t had a simple filling for many years, I would hate to be caught with my mouth propped open and a rubber dam isolating the thousand-dollar prep for the crown the dentist is putting in. Not to mention the Nitrous Oxide would severely inhibit my ability to run.

4.     Having a Flexible Sigmoidoscopy. Although the technician makes comments like, “you have a lovely colon,” and I always compare the procedure with gardening because it involves a hose, a droplight and a blower, it would be extremely embarrassing to leap from the table with the sigmoidoscope still deep in my bowels and blasts of air propelling my escape.

5.     In the ball bearing aisle of Home Depot browsing for the perfect replacement balls for my Magic Labyrinth game.  During an earthquake, getting to safety is the number one priority, I don’t want to be doing the Curly (The Three Stooges) shuffle in addition to running like a girl.

I know. I know. Earthquakes aren’t funny but that’s why I’m finding humor before it happens ‘cause there sure ain’t anything funny about the aftermath.

Four Birds, One Stone

Everyone I know complains that there isn't enough time in the day to get important things done. I'm no exception. In the future however, I think I will be a little more selective with things I combine to save time.

I brilliantly arranged for two medical exams to be done on the same day. It was my perfect time-saving plan. I would get my eyes examined, including pupil dilation, in the morning and my annual mammogram in the afternoon. Believe me, as usual, I tried every which way to get out of the latter, reasoning with Dr. Rodriguez that an ultrasound would reveal every bit as much as the procedure of using hydraulic pressure to painlessly compress objects from four inches to five centimeters. Of course, my lack of medical knowledge revealed itself, and he won out. Quesadillas again!

The eye exam went well. Do you know they have a tool that's made specifically for covering one eye? It's a circle on a stick. Wish I'd thought of it. You just hold it in front of one eye and ta da, you can only see out of the unobstructed eye! It's even better than placing one hand over your eye. The doctor gave me a funny look when I told him it would come in handy when drunk driving. Instant relief from double vision. Anyway, I read the chart and endured the bright light. He explained that my iris is like the shutter on a camera, the pupil becomes smaller when the light shines in it. After the dilating drops took effect, I resembled one of those characters in a horror flick where their eyes are just one big, black, pupil.

Naturally, I forgot to bring my sunglasses so after trying to pay for my exam with my Starbucks gift card, the receptionist gave me a pair of disposable sun glasses...the ones that resemble 3D glasses that you use in the theater. Little good they did. I'm sure everyone in the waiting room heard me scream when I stepped out the door into the sunlight.

I looked at my watch, but only saw the vague outline of it encircling my wrist. I judged by the position of the sun, directly over head, that it must be close to noon and I would have time to return a book to the library and have lunch before my next appointment. I guess I will have to go back to the library tomorrow, to claim my organizer, and pay the late fee for the book still sitting on my back seat.

The waitress at the coffee shop was nice. She read the whole menu to me. Twice. It didn't occur to me that after my appointment I wouldn't be able to do anything that required crisp vision. Blinking didn't help, it was frustrating, but I was thankful that I was wearing my temporary sunglasses so as not to scare the other customers.

I remember wondering if it was taking an unusually long time for my eyes to return to normal as I blindly turned the pages of a magazine at the imaging center. I groped my way to the dressing room after my name was called, and put on the brittle paper vest that opens in the front. The technician led me to the x-ray room and prepared to take the slides. She seemed to be very amused when I told her the reason I was wearing the paper sunglasses. She asked me if I could fit a bit of shopping in my day to save even more time. I told her I actually was going to stop at the mall before going home. Her laugh was contagious.

I really shouldn't have been driving but I'm proof that God really does look after drunks and fools. I made it to the mall safely, bought a skirt for work (I had to ask another customer to read the price tag to me) and even found the courage to go into Victoria's Secret for a new bra. After all they had been through, they deserved to be swaddled in silk. The salesgirl was very helpful, bringing me several different styles, sizes and colors and even helped me try them on. She didn't say a word about the strange looking sun glasses I was still wearing.

It wasn't until later that night, while in the tub, and my vision had returned, that I reviewed my day. I had learned a lot. Mostly, what not to do, no matter how much time you save. Informative though, how your eyes work, what technicians do to provide reference points on x-rays. I looked down and saw that the metal Bb's the technician had scotch taped to my nipples were still there.