July is not over.

I keep thinking it's August. Mostly because July has been a whirlwind, not unlike most of this year. I woke up early this morning because of the storms. And, then... the electricity went out. The hum of the oxygen compressor stopped and it beeped out an alarm. I hooked up to a portable tank but I could not sleep because I was too scared I'd run out of oxygen and not realize it. I felt so vulnerable. I need the oxygen compressor (that uses electricity) or a tank of oxygen and I'm on an IV med that must stay cold. I thought about the medicine in the refrigerator and the ice packs I use in my IV pouch and I hoped First Energy's website was correct about their estimated repair time.

It's the same vulnerability I felt when I was caught in a storm last Wednesday on the way back home from the Cleveland Clinic. I had had a right heart cath late morning and my friend was driving me home. After a stop to eat lunch, we headed west on the turnpike. What we didn't realize was that we were heading towards a very dangerous storm. A little past the Sandusky and Norwalk exits we encountered lots of wind, rain, lightning, and hail. And, I could hear the tornado sirens. We turned on the radio and heard the weather service announcing tornado activity and to seek shelter right away. Cars were pulling off on the side of the road, including under the overpasses, which is dangerous in tornado weather. The drainage ditches on the side of the road were completely full of water. My friend put on the hazard lights and followed a semi and we slowly inched ahead. We agreed we really had little choice and that we'd gauge our decision on the reactions of the semi driver since he or she would have communication with those up ahead on the road. We felt it was just as dangerous to park on the side of the road as inching ahead at snail speed.

We reached the Commodore Perry Service Plaza and found what was perhaps the last parking spot left in the whole place. But, we were stuck in the car with the wind whipping and the lightning zapping all around. We knew if we stepped out, we'd become instant lightning rods. (And remember how I calculated my chances of getting hit with lightning was greater than getting some rare, random, lung disease?) So, we sat. Again, I felt vulnerable. I was hooked to an O2 tank I desperately needed. I couldn't leave it in the car and run. Actually, I would be unable to run with or without it.

Once the lightning calmed, we decided to make it into the service plaza. We walked in and everything seemed very quiet. There were a few people standing and looking around, looking just as confused as we were. The restaurants and the gift shop were closed up and dark and the place seemed relatively empty. That was just a brief moment before a lady in a blue uniform came out and announced that people could now leave at their own will, as the tornadoes had passed. Then the place filled with people (and their pets) who had waited out the storm in the plaza's storm shelter.

I told my friend she deserves the best driver award for driving us past a tornado. It's probably a good thing she was with me that day as she is the most cautious and calm driver I know. As for the storms this morning, First Energy had the electricity running again before the estimated repair time. I was able to hook back up to the oxygen compressor and its hum lulled me back to sleep.