Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit

Is “Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit” just something us superstitious New Englanders do?

On the first of the month, if the first thing you say is “rabbit” (we said it 3 times in CT.  Can’t be too safe.), then you would be rewarded with something you want within that month.

No, I have no idea why those two things would correlate.  Rabbit=something good.  But, then again, I accept “ghosts” as a valid response to “what was that noise in the basement” without batting an eye.

So, this month, I woke up early on March 1st and said outloud, “Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit.”

Then I shortly followed up with a, “Shut it” to the complainer lying in bed next to me regarding my outburst.

Maybe that is where I went wrong.  It should be “Rabbit, Rabbit, Rabbit” then a moment of silence, not profanity.

Regardless, my fabulous moment was followed up with stepping on an exposed carpet tack going straight into my big toe as I walked in the dark to the bathroom.

Three words were also said then, and they did not sound like “Rabbit”.

I got myself on the road to go to work, on time, I might add, and stopped at the mailbox.  There was a thick letter from scary to-be-left-unnamed agency that you do not want to receive letters from.

Rabbit?

You owe $26,000…Please remit immediately.

{See explicatives from carpet tack.}

I start driving, clutching onto my black rock.

Have I told you about my black rock?

I should really give him a name...

I was at a yoga retreat a few weeks back, and my instructor handed these out.  She said that she always keeps them handy because they absorb your excess energy. There was also something you could do with a flower, but you would have to bury it when you were done and I didn’t quite follow the whole thing. 

Anyway, try it.  It reminded me of a worry stone, and it’s been working for me.  I am an extremely hyper person by nature and my current situation in life is requiring me to learn how to sit patiently on my butt for hours on hand.  Oh, and I fall down a lot.  This is supposed to help wtih that too.

Clutching onto the rock dispels some of my excess energy.  And, it leaves enough left over to be be directed toward throwing the rock at someone’s head if the situation calls for it…

Now, if I could only stop losing the damn rock…

But, I digress.

My first reaction to all these unfortunate circumstances was to curse the Rabbit. 

Instead, I just let it be.  Ok.  This is my new reality.  Hold onto your butts, as Ray said in Jurassic Park.

Remember that scene when he takes the system down in Jurassic Park?  That’s my life most of the time.  Everything I try, I think to myself, “Hold onto your butts”…

Again, I digress.

And, just as quickly as it started, my life started to return to “normal” (i.e. nothing acutely tragic).  My toe stopped throbbing.  Made some phone calls to clear up the error on the $26k.

And, I quickly thanked the Rabbit.

 

I’ve Finally Met My Match: Middle of the Night ER visit for my Daughter

I’m usually underwhelmed in emergency situations.  I can generally always survey my surroundings and can clearly think about the next best course of action.  My friend Danielle always said that I’m like that character Robin in “Boys on the Side” where she calms everyone down and tries to resolve the fighting between Holly and her drug-dealer boyfriend.

I’ve encountered people that yell and scream.  Faint.  Overreact about everything.  {Most of them are know as “family”}.  I’ve always found this behavior pretty silly.

But, I’ve finally met my match.  I finally found myself in a situation where not a single thought came to my head, and all I could think of was throwing up.  I was no help to anyone.

It’s a sick child in the middle of the night who can’t breathe.

• Who’s shaking uncontrollably.
• Who’s body is racking with deep, harsh coughs.
• Who’s barely able to squeeze enough air through her throat to beg me to take her to a doctor.

EEEEEEEE AAAAAAAA

EEEEEEEE AAAAAAA

For what felt like an eternity, all I could do was look at her.  Panicking.  Waiting for my brain to kick in.

Nothing.

Blank.

Then the wave of nausea.  All I wanted to do was throw up.  So, I sat down.  I stopped breathing.  Thought I was going to faint.

All sounds fell away except the EEEEEEE AAAAAA EEEEEE AAAAAA.

What happened next is beyond my comprehension.  I felt moved by something other than my brain.  I found myself digging through the back of the closet for the old nebulizer we hadn’t touched in over a year…I walked straight into the kitchen and dug behind the Swiffers and dog treats and found the small brown paper bag of albuterol we got last year for her brother in case he needed it.  Somehow, luckily, it didn’t expire until August.

I walked right over to a drawer in the kitchen and dug through the K Cups and pulled out the mouth piece for the nebulizer.

I put this whole contraption together, plug it in, and get her breathing it in.  Cover her with blankets because it’s now 12:30 a.m. and feels freezing cold.

I give her ibuprophen. Another round of the albuterol.

I sit down and cuddle with her.

And that is the first time I started consciously thinking again.  Started thinking about next steps.  Urgent care was closed.  Should we go to ER?  Which would you regret more, 5 hours in the ER at the risk of them doing nothing more, or her struggling to breathe the rest of the night?  Or worse?  Easy choice.  Now, which ER?  The regular hospital, or the children’s hospital?

In the end, everything turned out fine.  She has croup, had an asthmatic response and has been diagnosed with a “reactive airway”.

As is usual for a kid, she is perfectly fine now and is not even acting tired.  And, as is usual for me, it has dramatically changed my life.

I LOVE the ER! So much fun!!!

I’m comforted by the fact that something took care of us when I couldn’t.  Not sure if it was Mother’s instinct, the Universe, her Guardian Angel, MY Guardian Angel…or something else I haven’t quite conceptualized yet.  All I know is that it wasn’t me.

I also know that I will not test my luck with it though.  I’m going to put all emergency first aid kits, the nebulizer and it’s pieces and parts, etc. organized, labeled and communicated to everyone in the house in case I’m not home or I go mute again.

Luck favors the prepared, right?