Do these things really come in threes?

This ain't no pity post, just a statement of my current reality. Actually, my mental/emotional state is pretty good, but let's not try and find out where the breaking point is.

Yesterday I started out the day feeling pretty good, but on the way to work I began to feel pain in my lower right abdomen. I'd say it was a gall bladder flare up, but I had that removed in February. The pain kept up all day. I had a lunch scheduled that I couldn't miss, so I went to that - didn't feel any better. In fact, worse after.

Around 2 I went to the restroom and got a little shock - my urine was the color of coffee.

Damn. Probably a kidney stone. I went home and was calling the doc on my cell phone (since that's where I have her number stored) when my home phone rang. It was my dad, who never calls during the day. My grandmother had died.

She's been on a steep decline for the last few months, so it wasn't a surprise or a shock. Just one more thing to deal with.

My doc was booked up, so I went to an "Urgent Care" doc-in-a-box. Surprisingly, it was new, well laid out, and not crowded. I was in and out in less than an hour. Yep, kidney stone, blood in the urine, and blood pressure (from the pain) way up. So I got a small prescription for painkiller and went home to try and sleep it off. Not really possible with the phone calls from family trying to make funeral arrangements.

So, today, Friday, I'm in the office. I should still be home drugged up, but the pain's not too bad at the moment, but I certainly don't feel good. I'm trying to get things organized for me to be gone through Wednesday of next week. We're so understaffed at the moment that's pretty difficult. I'll be noon before I can leave.

Then I have to go buy a dark suit. I don't wear suits for work any more and even if I did, none of my suits are dark and frankly, they don't fit any more. I need to make travel arrangements and get a hotel, which ain't easy in the farm country where I grew up. And some time between now and Monday I need to write a eulogy.

All things considered, I'm fine. Really. If I can just pass this damn stone before I have to spend 6 hours driving to Illinois I'll be better.

I'll post the eulogy and comments here next week.

Ocracoke

Today I'm wearing my "Pirates of Ocracoke" tee-shirt (which includes many different "Jolly Rogers", including "Not-so-Jolly Roger" and my favorite, the "Bloody Pissed-Off Roger") and wondering is Ocracoke will still be there when I return next summer.

The Outer Banks have been our family vacation spot for the past 15 years or so. We started going because of my interest in Wind Surfing, but since I blew out the disc in my back (surprisingly, also at the Outer Banks playing football on the beach) I don't do that any more. But we love the area and really enjoy visiting every year. But talk about a fragile environment. In most parts, it's a strip of sand you could spit across (if you could spit really far). It's peaceful and has large, undeveloped parts that are a joy to be in.

I see in the news reports that once again, some residents are considering not leaving. Are these the same people we see every time after the big storm saying, "thank God we survived. We'll never do that again!", but yet, here they are sitting out another one. Some day, maybe even this week, the hand of god in the form of a hurricane is going to scour those little barrier islands right off the face of the planet. Gone will be the million dollar vacation homes and little fishing huts. Gone the lighthouse they just drug back up the beach and away from the pounding surf. Gone the Wright Brothers monument, Kitty Hawk, Kill Devil Hills, Avon and our Buxton.

While I have a chance, I'll continue to visit Ocracoke every year, find my seat at on the deck of the Jolly Roger restaurant, have a beer and look out over the pond where Blackbeard himself held court. Hell, I'd retire there if I had the chance. But when a hurricane like Isabell had me in its headlights I'd tuck tale and head for the hills.