Smashed Medicinal Boobs and Other Annoyances

As if preparing for the first major northeast hurricane hit of a lifetime didn't keep me busy enough today, I also had to keep a doctor appointment I made four months ago and they sent me to a nearby radiological center for a mammogram, which is where they stick your boob into a machine that smashes it down to roughly one-tenth of its actual size, then the machine goes WHAM WHAM WHAM WHAM against the smashed boob before repeating the process with the other boob, which somehow confers medical benefits. It also left interesting red marks on my skin, which is much better than the purple-and-blue bruising I expected. A non-medical version of the machine is found in Mexican restaurants, where it converts dough balls into nice flat tortillas.

Hurricane Irene is still threatening to pound my section of Connecticut almost as flat (don't attempt segues like that unless you're a Professional Writer, like me), so after my medical pounding today I went shopping again, bought more bottled water and some six-packs of small juice bottles at prices that made my frugal soul scream, because I'm used to giant economy sizes with much lower unit costs. But there's a difference between being thrifty and being cheap, and the whole point of living frugally and setting aside every dollar you can is so you can afford what you need at times like this.

The freezer's stuffed with about four gallons of water frozen in big plastic bottles or boxes, and several smaller Ziploc bags filled with ice cubes. Once the storm hits, while the power's still on, I'll move the ice into my two coolers, leaving the chemical freezer-packs in the freezer to maybe save the food there. I also have small Ziploc bags of ice cubes to keep in the smaller cooler along with pre-chilled juices, so without power I should still have cold or at least cool drinks for three days, and hopefully won't be without power any longer than that. (Hopefully, the storm turns or weakens enough to ultimately make this post much ado about nothing.)

I've got lanterns, radios, a camera and a fan, and batteries to power them all. I've got food that requires no cooking at all, and small aluminum baking dishes to serve as disposable cooking pots for foods requiring only a little heat over a Sterno setup. I'm too high up and too far inland for storm surge to be any concern, though I do live at the bottom of a valley surrounded by hills, so flash flooding is always a possibility. At least I'm on the second floor of a sturdy building with high ceilings. I've got enough plastic containers to store another eight gallons of tapwater on the countertop, in case any of my neighbors neglected to plan ahead. (Not that I'm turning into a softy; I just figure lacking power and water will be annoying enough, without having to hear kids whine "Mommy, I'm thirsty.")

I'd rather face the hurricane here than in my childhood stomping grounds in Virginia, which has been featured on the Weather Channel all day. At least here, I don't live two inches above and six blocks inland from the Chesapeake Bay.

I still have ridiculous amounts of work to do before the storm hits. Wish me luck, if you don't hear from me in awhile.