7 not-so-easy steps back to life as usual after hurricane
Here are the seven stages of hurricane recovery as I see them in the wake of Charley.
Anxiety. It comes in two phases: during and after. “What’s happening?†you wonder as the rain kicks up and the wind blows as you sit huddled in the safest part of your house. Every noise is magnified, and you think to yourself that the roof is going to come off with the next hard gust. It is a furious assault both on the homestead and the psyche. Afterward, you see the results and wonder how you’ll put everything back together again. It’s a feeling that may never go away for many folks. For others, it will kick up every time the sky darkens and the wind starts to blow.
Disbelief. You survive. The wind dies down, and immediately you start peeking out the window. There are shingles and pieces of aluminum around. Trees are bent over or broken. How is this possible? It must be a dream. Sooner or later you come to realize that your reality -- and that of the community’s -- has been altered by nature’s fickle course.
Frustration. No power. No phones. No television. No Internet. No video games. No school and kids bored “with nothing to do.†The smell of sewage is in the air. You can’t believe how slowly progress is made. Tolerance for no electricity is about 48 hours. Generators start appearing in the neighborhood. Everyone is working hard, but we’re spoiled and like everyone else, uncomfortable, cranky and a tad unreasonable.
Hungry and thirsty. OK, these are both physical conditions, but they play on your mental outlook. No wonder the ancients invented fire. Go a couple of days without a hot meal and it takes something out of you. No wonder people are willing to stand in long lines for a hot burger and a cold drink.
Ice is gold when you’ve got no power and the contents of your fridge are turning into something best left for a crime scene investigator. Hot coffee? That’s good. So is a tall, cold one. Bless those dispensing necessities.
Anger. We’re human. Sooner or later the natural reaction to all this is to rage against what ails us. Some folks carry this inside, while others blow off steam and vent. Either way, it’s natural to want to say, “Enough already.†People shouldn’t cross the line -- breaking the law, hurting themselves or others.
Exhaustion. We’re cranky, hungry, thirsty, hot and our mental state is far from ideal. We’re working hard to fix what we can: trying to contact insurance adjusters and bosses, worrying about our kids, bills and a dozen other things. We can push ourselves hard, but there comes a point when the body just shuts down. Part of us wants to think that just maybe, everything will be better when we wake up. That’s OK if it lets us recharge and get going again.
Guilt/thanksgiving. This is natural, too. If you got through relatively unscathed, you might be a little bit giddy -- and feeling guilty about your good fortune. That doesn’t mean that you’re glad someone else got hit harder. It’s all right to be happy about your situation.
I certainly feel lucky. Driving around the affected areas is an eye-opener that will get you to the final stage in a hurry. So many people were hit hard.
Viewing the damage puts it all into perspective and begs some basic questions: Why am I complaining? Whom can I help? How can I help?
Mark Pino can be reached at 407-931-5935 or [email protected]
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