Blue Skies

There is anarchy. If hell is an actual place, it can't be much different from the Gulf Coast right now, especially New Orleans. Once lively metropolis of southern culture, where you were apt to hear jazz from every corner in the Quarter, where you could get the best cafe' au lait and beignet bar none, where street mimes would annoy the dickens out of you till you grinned, where people once had the hearty in your face bad weather slogan, "We ain't scared of hurricanes, 'cher! We drink hurricanes for breakfast!" Where you could see pure devilment on one corner, then go into the most beautiful castle of a cathedral and be moved to tears by art work so divinely inspired it could move an atheist to cry out, "Oh! I believe!" Where my husband and I sat on a dock overlooking the great Lake Ponchartrain in one of the most romantic and memorable moments of our early marriage, with our first born being rocked in his carrier, while a street performer strummed his guitar and sang "Blue skies, smiling at me.... nothing but blue skies, do I see...Am I disturbing the baby?"

"Oh, no sir! Not at all. Please continue."

"Blue days, all of them gone. Nothing but blue skies from now on...."

Oh, the ache. I want my New Orleans back! I want my Ship Island, and my... my PEOPLE!!!

I'm listening to the radio and news not for more bad news, more sad and disturbing images that make me cry, but for one iota of good news. I want to hear that conditions are nominally improving. I want to hear that things are coming under control. It isn't happening.

Hell, I'm exhausted, and I just found out today I'm on automatic recall at the hospital. If they call me, I go. It is like a direct order, given to military. I can not refuse, not that I would. I want to help the refugees. Our ER did double duty today as refugee clinic and emergency room. Usually, we gripe about treating what we call "boo-boos" and "runny noses" but not today. It was just fine. I found out this afternoon after lunch that we would receive patients by chopper from a hospital in Meridian, MS that could not contain them all. We will be using our swing bed/transitional care, our outpatient facilities and every available room at every station to house the people from these hospitals that can't care for them.

I paged once already for the helicopter pad to be cleared today, and it looks like our maintenance and security may as well camp out there until we've filled up every bed. I expect to be called back. It's only a question of when, not if. They will need me in some organizational capacity, surely. I could put in labwork, or transport lab specimens, or get water, pillows and blankets. There's plenty I could do. I hope they call, actually. It's better than sitting here watching these sad images goes by. It would make me feel better to do something. If they don't call me in, I plan to use some of my precious gas to go to a bigger town and give blood.

The picture I chose for this entry which feels more like a eulogy is a photo of St. Louis Cathedral in New Orleans. It's the most beautiful in all of the U.S.A. I don't know for certain, but it may be our oldest. The pigeons are in love (or is it hate? they poop on him!) with the statue of Andrew Jackson out front. That's Jackson square, they call it. Because the statue is placed there. Those pigeons are well fed, I can tell you that. Oh... wait a minute... they were. I expect they're pretty hungry now, with no tourists throwing bits of bread from their lucky dog hotdog for them. I chose that picture because I want to remember the comfort that you feel in that place. Its just like a warm hug to remember being there, hearing the tour guide tell about his pride in the place, and about each of the apostles and saints on the walls. The statue of the Virgin Mary is lovely beyond compare! You feel a state of peace just looking at her, whether or not your even Christian.

I need to do something more productive than moping and whining, since I can't be of service to the victims right now. Something productive like mixing myself a hurricane and drinking to the Big Easy! and Blue Skies. Yeah, lots of Blue Skies for the Crescent City, our N'awlins, y'all! Here's to Blue Skies for N'awlins.

Kelly