Displaced Lives

So, I've been to the Austin Convention Center a few times since the displaced lives from New Orleans came. The night shift works best with Addy's schedule, so I won't miss her and she won't miss me while she sleeps.

The first night I was in Medical Triage, which was like an ER set up in a convention room. I was dressing wounds, directing folks to get their tetanus shots, checking people's temperatures, blood pressure, breathing, and mostly just listening to their terrifying stories.

"I just can't get that image of bodies floating in the water out of my head... my babies didn't need to see that," says a mother of fourteen. Her sons (the two that she could find) were at the table with her and were definitely suffering from post-traumatic stress.

"The water was up to here," an elderly woman signals the cutoff point at her chest, "so I thought I better turn around and go back upstairs. I was scared. I ain't never been so scared."

"We were on the roof. And my neighbor, we ain't never even really talked before, he came paddling over in his boat and saved us! Can you believe it? I mean, my neighbor who I never even paid attention to, ya know?"

The second night was more of the same, but this time I toured part of the center designated as the shelter holding thousands. There are literally no words to describe the way my stomach felt when I walked in that door.

I'm so glad I have skills that helped them. I'm so thankful for my little (and big) family. I'm never going to forget some of the things they said or the look in that woman's eyes. It's too much for one girl to handle. Ease their pain, God.