Medical and disaster go hand in hand
There's one rule about having someone in your family in the medical field - disasters never fail to strike on their shift. My sister falling on the playground at school and needing a million stitches around her eye? My mom and grandmother were working that day. My grandfather's heart attack? My mom was at work. My speeding ticket (oops . . .)? The time I got trapped in my subdivision due to a tree falling across the road? Jeremy was at work those days. I'm sure there's a million more, but these are the first examples that come to mind.
And don't even mention snow. Growing up, I always knew whether or not it was going to snow when the weathermen freaked out just by finding out if my mom was working that day. I honestly can't remember a time they said it would snow when my mom was off and it actually did. I also can't remember a time they said it would snow when my mom had to work and then it didn't snow. The last snow we got in Georgia (which was the most snow we've seen since the huge blizzard in the early 90s)?
Yep, my husband's driving that ambulance.
On Sunday, we added another disaster to these legacies as I drove myself to church while my husband was at work.
When I was about halfway to church, I noticed my car make a funny noise when I pushed the brake to stop at one of the four way stops. It kind of sounded like the noise the car makes when you drive over those little ridges that alert you that a stop is coming up. I thought it was odd and it concerned me some, but since the car was driving fine I dismissed it as being "odd" and made a mental note to tell Jeremy about it later. All was fine until I was about three fourths of the way to church when it started making the noise when I braked and when I accelerated. However, when I got it above 50 mph all seemed fine. I was more concerned now, but knew if I could just get to the church, my dad could look at it and my family would drive me back to my house if necessary.
One thing I hate about having cars make noises is that the male (namely my dad or Jeremy) trying to fix my car always asks me to describe the sound it makes. I *hate* doing this. No matter how much I squeak trying to imitate it or draw complex analogies to compare the sound to, they're never satisfied (and usually give me a look typically resolved for space aliens). Cars I drive are also notorious for acting all sorts of weird and making all kinds of racket when I drive it, only to behave like an angel when someone else drives it, which means they try to assure me that they "looked at it" and "didn't see anything", but leaves me terrified to drive it because hey! It was *broken* and they didn't do *anything* to fix it, therefore it is still *broken*! So I had the brilliant idea - I'll call my husband and let him hear the sound for *himself*, therefore alleviating the need for me to describe it to him and also giving solid proof that the car is broken.
Got Jeremy on the phone and let him hear the noise. It was getting really bad, but I was on the road the church is off of and thought I could make it there. Jeremy reminded me that he couldn't leave work to come help me and I assured him it was fine, since I was just minutes away from the church and if I didn't make it, my parents would be there faster than he could even call someone to come in for him. I was soooooo close, within just a few miles, and suddenly it got drastically worse. I could no longer keep the car going the speed limit. Knowing I could go no further, I pulled over right before a bridge, where the road widened on the edge of the road the width of a lane.
When I got out of my car, this is what I saw:
Yes, the rim is sitting on the ground. And yes, the tire has completely detached from the rim.
I told Jeremy about the tire and called my family. I figured it'd take a few calls to get someone to notice, since church had already started, but I knew once I got their attention, they'd be there in just a minute. Except when I called them, they weren't at church. They had gone out of town to camp in the mountains and were still 30 minutes away. I had totally forgotten all about that. I asked them about my grandparents - they should be at church, right? Nope, they were 30 minutes behind my parents coming home too. I hated being alone, but at least I wasn't in a bad area and got to talk to someone on the phone while I waited for my family to come help me. My dad got there and changed the tire pretty quickly while I hugged on Natalie. I was so happy that all was better.
Until the check engine light came on in my car as I drove it to get new tires . . . *headdesk*
And don't even mention snow. Growing up, I always knew whether or not it was going to snow when the weathermen freaked out just by finding out if my mom was working that day. I honestly can't remember a time they said it would snow when my mom was off and it actually did. I also can't remember a time they said it would snow when my mom had to work and then it didn't snow. The last snow we got in Georgia (which was the most snow we've seen since the huge blizzard in the early 90s)?
Yep, my husband's driving that ambulance.
On Sunday, we added another disaster to these legacies as I drove myself to church while my husband was at work.
When I was about halfway to church, I noticed my car make a funny noise when I pushed the brake to stop at one of the four way stops. It kind of sounded like the noise the car makes when you drive over those little ridges that alert you that a stop is coming up. I thought it was odd and it concerned me some, but since the car was driving fine I dismissed it as being "odd" and made a mental note to tell Jeremy about it later. All was fine until I was about three fourths of the way to church when it started making the noise when I braked and when I accelerated. However, when I got it above 50 mph all seemed fine. I was more concerned now, but knew if I could just get to the church, my dad could look at it and my family would drive me back to my house if necessary.
One thing I hate about having cars make noises is that the male (namely my dad or Jeremy) trying to fix my car always asks me to describe the sound it makes. I *hate* doing this. No matter how much I squeak trying to imitate it or draw complex analogies to compare the sound to, they're never satisfied (and usually give me a look typically resolved for space aliens). Cars I drive are also notorious for acting all sorts of weird and making all kinds of racket when I drive it, only to behave like an angel when someone else drives it, which means they try to assure me that they "looked at it" and "didn't see anything", but leaves me terrified to drive it because hey! It was *broken* and they didn't do *anything* to fix it, therefore it is still *broken*! So I had the brilliant idea - I'll call my husband and let him hear the sound for *himself*, therefore alleviating the need for me to describe it to him and also giving solid proof that the car is broken.
Got Jeremy on the phone and let him hear the noise. It was getting really bad, but I was on the road the church is off of and thought I could make it there. Jeremy reminded me that he couldn't leave work to come help me and I assured him it was fine, since I was just minutes away from the church and if I didn't make it, my parents would be there faster than he could even call someone to come in for him. I was soooooo close, within just a few miles, and suddenly it got drastically worse. I could no longer keep the car going the speed limit. Knowing I could go no further, I pulled over right before a bridge, where the road widened on the edge of the road the width of a lane.
When I got out of my car, this is what I saw:
Yes, the rim is sitting on the ground. And yes, the tire has completely detached from the rim.
I told Jeremy about the tire and called my family. I figured it'd take a few calls to get someone to notice, since church had already started, but I knew once I got their attention, they'd be there in just a minute. Except when I called them, they weren't at church. They had gone out of town to camp in the mountains and were still 30 minutes away. I had totally forgotten all about that. I asked them about my grandparents - they should be at church, right? Nope, they were 30 minutes behind my parents coming home too. I hated being alone, but at least I wasn't in a bad area and got to talk to someone on the phone while I waited for my family to come help me. My dad got there and changed the tire pretty quickly while I hugged on Natalie. I was so happy that all was better.
Until the check engine light came on in my car as I drove it to get new tires . . . *headdesk*