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My house, once it?s fixed up, is going to be placed on the market very 
quickly after all this is over, if we live through it.  My Tennessee, she?s 
calling me, my Tennessee.  Not sure why I?m mentioning this now, but on my 
cable (when I have cable and electric, two commodities that are no longer 
available to me along with no water), the music section, during non 
hurricane traumatic periods this summer, I?ve been hooked on the Blue Grass 
Music channel.  The Blue Ridge, Appalachian, Smokey Mountains, they were to 
be my new home, and, I swear, I just might not ever leave.  Florida, it?s 
been fun, I love ya?ll, but, I ain?t ever coming back.

Jennifer yells out, ?They?re here.?  Some guys in a Sheriff?s jeep. Last 
time there was a sheriff?s vehicle in my yard, it was not a good reason, 
but, well, this time, no  cops.  Two males, but, medical people (none of 
them had guns and they both were wearing stethoscopes; I checked).  ?Watch 
out for the flying shingles, ? I yelled, as they approached our doorway.  
Brave men, in a cop?s truck, but, they were not cops (for some reason this 
was important to me).

These guys were terrific.  Mother-in-law was passed out on the couch.  We 
revived her, the head guy started asking questions, we answered with the 
phrase ?diabetic seizure?, and then they tried to pinch some blood from the 
ole woman?s index finger of her right hand.  She resisted and it became a 
wrestling match.  I had her arms, Julie had one of her legs and we warned 
the one medical guy by the other leg, that she was a kicker (Reno 911, you 
gotta watch that show).  This other leg was in a cast and she, my 
mother-in-law, could take you out with this thing.  ?Resistance is futile, ? 
I scream at the ol woman.  That got a few laughs.  Humor is important in the 
medical field; I know this because I watch Scrubs on TV.

Her blood sugar number was 27.  We had a lottery going, the medical guy said 
30, so we all gave him a buck since he was closest.  I had no problem 
bringing out my wallet for all of this.  Heroes, friggen heroes, not cops, 
not firemen, not military folks (my favorite), but, medical heroes.  I 
started to cry.  This was all a bit too much for me.  I was not having a 
good day and neither was anyone in my vicinity.

The next arrival was the ambulance.  By the time the two paramedics from 
this vehicle of mercy pulled in, we had Mom (I reluctantly call her this and 
do so only cause it?s less typing even though I guess I just typed a bunch 
telling you that), was on some sort of IV and the lottery winning medical 
man had pumped something highly volatile to get her blood sugar up into her. 
 It worked faster than he may have wanted it to because he now had a 
lively, verbose mother in law (forget that mom thing).  She was talking in 
his face as some older people tend to do during stressful situations.  ?What 
are you doing here?  Why are you touching me?  I?m not going to any 
hospital.  Julie, who are these people and why are they here??

?Yes, you are, Mom (OK, I used it here), we have no power, my roof is being 
ripped off shingle by shingle, and, you were almost dead a minute ago.  You 
are going to the hospital,? said I.  Damn if that didn?t work.  ?Oh, OK, OK. 
 I didn?t know things were that bad.  I?m sorry, Howard, I don?t mean to be 
an inconvenience (shit, guilt trip number 97),? says Mom.  She?s 
baccckkkkkkk!!!!!!!!  And, damn if the woman didn't make me cry with that 
one.  I am no longer a male, I've become quite feminine and, this isn't such 
a bad feeling.  If only I could.....haha, never mind.

With that, they put her into a stretcher, Aunt Julie joined them in the 
ambulance, and they all drove away.  Before departing, the lottery winning 
medical guy said, ?You people are incredibly brave.?  How ironic is that?  
Kind of like Superman calling Mr. Dumbass (me) brave.  Haha.

I gave the guy a ?gee, you?re swell? kinda hug and started crying.  Man, 
what is wrong with me?  I blubbered out, ?God bless you people? (God always 
seems to be involved with these life and death situations).  He squeezed my 
shoulder and told me to take care.

By the time the true heroes in my world were out of my yard, winds blowing 
at their peek, trees bending to the ground, I had semi-regained my composure 
and was planning my attack for the next round. Hurricane Frances presents a 
trip to the barn way out in the backyard, starring Howard the Coward running 
his butt off for dear life to see if his best friends in the entire world 
were are all OK.  Barn, horses, they will be checked on, and the time to do 
this was now.  I had already waiting too long.

I used the front of the house for shelter from the winds planning my 
movement towards the back, heading east, which was the current direction of 
Frances at my location.  The wind was horrendous, the rain pelting.  I was 
wearing my windbreaker I had received at the River Run endurance ride when 
American Spirit had finished in second place.  It had a hood and had 
protected me from the rains at the Leatherwood ride; I was hoping it would 
keep me from drowning or dying of rain burn since the combo of rain and 
wind, on direct skin, felt like you were getting a good sandblasting.  Heck, 
I do believe grains of sand were included in all of this since I?m only ten 
miles from the ocean.

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