Overcoming Bloglessness

The Black Haboob

24 Comments

The horizon was dark when I first looked out the kitchen window. A storm was moving in from the west. I went about my Swiffering, returning to the window time and again to check the storms’ progress. Every time I looked, the storm was closer. Close enough to see that this wasn’t your typical tempest. It wasn’t in the sky at all, but churning low over road and pasture like an ominous black haboob; black like oblivion.

The dream came to mind off and on that day. The Tempest. One might think a dream like that a warning, if one believed in such things.

I told my husband the dream over morning coffee.

That night he had a stroke.

We were watching Jeopardy in our side by side recliners when he had a terrible bout of coughing. After that, he wasn’t the same. He couldn’t move his right side. His speech was slurred. I called 911 right away.

I forgot all about the dream for a couple of ICU days. Then it dawned on me; the dream had come true. Or was it coincidence?

He’s home now, walking without aid, every day a little better. He can’t write or drive yet, his speech is improving. He’s cooking again and he fixed our leaky faucet.

We’re in good spirits, so aware of how it might have been, so aware of how much we love each other and so
thankful for good medicine, EMTs, nurses, doctors and scientists, friends and loved ones who helped us survive the ominous black haboob.

Source: Misstep

IMG_6031

Advertisements

Author: Susan B Raven

For many years I have suffered from debilitating bloglessness, only writing in my head, while everyone else posted and shared with ease. Previous attempts at recovery have failed, my secret journals edited to death, pages torn out, crumpled and trashed. I will not succumb to this embarassing condition. I will continue to struggle against the rampant backspacing and endless blank staring. I refuse to relapse into the void that is bloglessness. I can do it. I am doing it. I am Overcoming Bloglessness.

24 thoughts on “The Black Haboob

  1. I’ve had vivid dreams in the past that are so compelling I look them up, even though I don’t necessarily believe in dream interpretation, and twice have found them to be incredible portents of the future. I pray your husband continues to recover and the black haboob finds another place to hover!

  2. Riveting story, thank you for sharing such a personal passage here. Happy to know you recognized the signs of a stroke, were able to get your husband help, and that his recovery is progressing. Blessings to you both … Marianne

  3. I’m so glad he’s recovering. That must have been so scary. Thank you for sharing.

  4. It’s good to hear that he is improving, and I am sending every good thought your way that he continues to improve. That must have been so scary for you, I can’t even imagine. Hugs to you.

  5. I can’t even begin to imagine the shock that must have been. In a moment, everything changes. I’m glad (thrilled) to hear he’s back on track (getting back on track). And I do think we can get echo’s from the near future, waves that bounce back.

    • We were lucky in many ways; lucky it happened at home and not driving out in the boonies. The medical team and rehab was top notch. He’s going to outpatient therapy twice a week.
      It does seem like echos from the near future sometimes. I wish they’d be more specific! šŸ™‚

  6. When we get “messages,” they always seem so encrypted that we don’t know till afterwards we’ve been warned. I’m glad YOU were home too to make the call, to make sure he was cared for.

    • Me too. I should confess, I was annoyed with him for a minute there, thinking he was being dramatic or silly when he wouldn’t answer my “Are you okay?” Then I saw the drool. 911.

  7. I am glad to hear that your husband is improving and hope he will continue to make a good recovery.

  8. I’m happy to hear he is doing better and you were able to get him some help right away. My mother-law use to have dreams like that, only she received a little clearer message…like a car accident that she saw the day after the dream.

  9. I received a very clear message in a dream the night before my father suffered a heart attack. I never discount dreams. This would be a good subject for us all to write about! So glad you acted so wisely and that your husband is recovering, Susan.

  10. I am glad that your husband is recovering from his illness. Dreams are forerunner of happenings.

  11. sometimes you know something is wrong at a very deep level, and the dreams are a way of letting you know about it. maybe a smell, a sound, a breath or a heartbeat that’s off a bit. Ive learned to never doubt that kind of dream. It isnt so much interpretation by a book, it’s what your inner skin is telling you.

    I went for a routine mammogram two years ago, never have a problem, but this time on the way back out to the car I suddenly thought, “they found something” and it kept running through my head like a tickertape. three days later they called me back. Nothing there, but damn that was frightening. Always always, trust your own senses.

    Im so glad he’s okay. that can be amazingly scary.

    • Thanks, Judy. Most of the time I don’t remember dreams, so when they stick in my mind like that it’s haunting.
      I like your term, “inner skin”. šŸ™‚

      • Lol, thanks. It’s like the itch on the inside that says, pay attention. I dont remember a lot of mine these days but when I do I write ’em down. Some are terribly sad, some are fascinating, some are so frustrating I just wake up in despair of ever finding the end…and the brain has its own ways of warning you about things. It pays to listen, sometimes.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s