We do not yet have a report back from Sarah’s heart 24-hour monitoring. We should hear something in the next day or two. Sarah also has a follow-up visit with our family doctor Wednesday.
Meandering through the morning.
That favorite activity of mine is made possible by hitting the road an hour earlier than necessary on the mornings I drive to Greenville for my monthly rheumatoid arthritis infusion.
On my most recent jaunt, I left at 6:30 a.m. which gave me an extra hour of bliss, an extra hour of getting to tool along down miscellaneous side roads that lead to who knows where.
And may I just state for the record?
Who knows where is a rather fabulous place to visit.
If you want to imagine the sound effects for the above photo, all you have to do is think about complete silence broken occasionally by the serenading song of the few birds and frogs who call that neighborhood home. In fact, I suppose their address could very well be Who Knows Where, North Carolina.
After my extra hour of wandering bliss, I arrived at the clinic and got settled in with my I.V. and all of my accoutrements. When I go for these appointments, I always take a pair of fuzzy socks and my tablet; I throw a blanket over my legs and I am all set for the 60-minute infusion.
As I was getting myself settled, I glanced over at the man in the recliner to my left and noticed he was snoozing which actually seemed like a pretty appealing pass-the-time option as well.
After the infusion was finished, I went trundling on out to the car, ready to get on with the rest of my day which included having lunch with Cheryl, a dear friend and fellows pastor’s wife.
But alas.
When I went to start my car, all I heard was the most unhelpful sound of an engine that was reluctant to turn over. I waited a minute or two and tried again. Nothing.
The battery was most definitely dead and I was most definitely 2 1/2 hours from home and, more importantly, 2 1/2 hours away from my Prince Charming/Personal Mechanic.
I thought about going back into the clinic to ask for help but as wonderful as those doctors are, I couldn’t image asking one of them to put his patient on hold so that he come out and resuscitate my battery.
And so I called the aforementioned charming prince who instructed me to contact USAA, the company that covers our roadside assistance. The plan was for them to either jump me off or, if that failed, to tow me somewhere to get the battery replaced.
So I made that call and then texted Cheryl to let her know what was happening. Just as I was preparing to cool my heels and wait for help to arrive, I happened to glance up and notice that the fella who had been snoozing in the chair near me was coming out the clinic door.
I gave him a speedy once over and tried to quickly ascertain if he had a “Yes Face” or a “No Face.” (I read somewhere that speakers and comedians who often ask for audience involvement are adept at reading Yes Faces and No Faces.)
To my great delight (or maybe it was just due to my slightly frazzled frame of mind), I decided that this fella did indeed have a Yes Face. Plus, he and I were fellow RA patients so I figured that might give me a bit of extra cred.
I hollered at him across the parking lot, “Hello! Do you know how to jump off a car battery?”
Turns out he did know. Turns out he was willing to help. My Yes Face assessment had not led me astray
Now I would be the first to admit that I should know how to do this little task myself because it is important. Steve has valiantly showed me the process a couple of times over the years but I get very twitchy around car batteries because I am always certain that flames will fly out of the terminals or worse yet, the entire battery will explode and engulf me in whatever things come out of a battery upon explosion.
And so I was extra thankful to have this competent guy to assist me. He had the air of being ex-military and he was performing his task with great skill and confidence,
Now let me just explain right here that whenever Steve is (very confidently) doing something battery-related, I usually stay a good ten steps away from him because of my unreasonable battery-exploding phobia. However, I figured that it wouldn’t seem very neighborly to give this new friend such a wide berth so I hovered nervously nearby in my best effort to keep him company. Plus, I never knew when he might need to ask my invaluable advice about something mechanical. (ha)
And then, just at the very moment when I was feeling a bit more relaxed with this fella who didn’t seem at all intimidated or cowed by that scary ol’ battery I was dismayed to hear him mutter to himself, “I am always afraid these things are going to blow up in my face.”
Ack!
If Mr. Calm, Efficient, Ex-Military Man was afraid of the battery blowing up, then I was most definitely going to re-afraid myself, too. I immediately took five large steps backward leaving him to deal with his (possibly) highly explosive work on his own.
Because I am heroic like that.
You will be relieved to know that within ten minutes, my Good Samaritan had me up and running again and no battery exploded in the process. (Although acid had squirted out and was covering one of the terminals.)
I shook my new friend’s hand, thanked him for his help and said I might run into him again sometime in the infusion room. He was such a gallant gentleman and seemed genuinely delighted to be able to help. I’m thankful that fine men (with Yes Faces) are still out there.
I drove my car to a garage where Cheryl picked me up for lunch; afterward, she ferried me back to the garage where my repaired vehicle was waiting for me. It turned out to be a perfect time to be meeting someone because I had a built-in chauffeur, plus a lovely chance to sit and talk and laugh for two hours with a sweet friend.
On the way home later that afternoon, I had to stop momentarily because one of the bridges had been opened to let a boat pass. I was only too happy for the chance to stretch, open the windows and bask in the glory of the blueness reflected all around me–water, sky, and ocean-baptized air.
I couldn’t help but notice that the driver of the car behind me was enjoying the view as well.
But something else I was thinking about?
I was thinking that as I had meandered my way through the morning twelve hours earlier, my path had taken me down many a secluded road with no houses in sight and probably very limited phone reception.
I was thankful that I had not pulled over and shut off the engine (like I normally do) to snap photos; instead, I had braked for a moment, taken a few shots out my window and kept going. And because of that small change in my usual early morning routine, my battery had quit on me in a well populated area and not on a lonely road . . . in the middle of who knows where.
What about you? Are you comfortable with changing tires, checking oil, jumping off batteries? If so, who taught you what you know?
Do you have a story of a breakdown in a not-ideal situation?
Such a beautiful area with all that water! I have jumped a car but like you, I don’t like the idea of all that electricity. My Dad showed me how to check oil, change spark plugs and wires, etc. but with today’s cars with the sensors and electronics and modules there isn’t much that can be easily done anymore. My husband found that it is less expensive or the same to take the vehicles in for oil changes vs. doing it himself!
Kari,
I truly love all that water around us; it is so peaceful to have blue sky and blue water as the backdrop of our lives.
You are right about cars becoming so sophisticated–it DOES make it harder to work on them. But good for you for learning how to change spark plugs and wires and good for your dad for teaching you!
Becky – I got one of those self-jumping things for batteries. It’s incredibly easy to use, plus it has a flashlight on it and a place I can plug things in for camping, etc.. It’s quite handy and, if it’s just a dead battery, I don’t have to worry about waiting around. Takes me about 30 seconds.
When I got my first car my father made me learn how to change a flat. It was great because I got a flat in a couple of places that was kind of inconvenient and was able to change it with no problem.
I can’t change the oil or anything else – well, I put chains on my car when I need to (because Oregon has mountain passes and sometimes I need to drive ovr them) – but I feel good for what I know. I’m also single and don’t have someone to call on easily, so that forces me to be self sufficient in ways I don’t think others have to be.
🙂
I am ok with checking tires, oil etc. I could change the oil too if I had to because my dad taught me how. However, I too am afraid of exploding batteries because one really did blow up in my dad’s face when I was a little girl. Battery acid in the face. So dangerous and so scary! I will hold one end of the cables to make sure the clamps don’t touch each other but once I hand them off, I step WAAAY back. (We have to jump my husband’s truck occasionally because he doesn’t drive it enough to keep the battery charged up.)
I broke down once in Denver with my first car. During rush hour, in heavy traffic. Eeeekk!!! Someone helped me push the car off to the shoulder and determined that it had vapor locked due to excessive heat. So I just had to sit there until it cooled down and would start again. Very embarrassing and I’m sure I was quite unpopular for plugging up the traffic even more. Lol! It sure was nice of that man to give you a hand! 🙂
Okay so that photo of the truck is just wild. It looks like that truck is floating. I feel the same way as you do about the battery exploding when hooking up the battery cables. I stay completely away. I also have a fear when it comes to putting air in tires. I always thing that they are going to explode also. Lucky for me I have a husband and two boys that do that for me.
Mel,
That is so crazy. Until Stefanie first mentioned it, I never would have noticed that floating truck! Glad I have obvservant readers. 🙂
I am also leary of airing up tiress and I REALLY hate it when people blow up balloons. That’s interesting how some things bother some people but not others. Glad I’m not alone . . .
I hope Sarah gets good results from the heart monitoring!
Oh – I’m sure you know I can do just about anything with a car, up to and including rebuilding an engine. I learned to weld so I could build the exhaust for our MG V8 conversion. 🙂
I have to say – that photo of the truck makes it look like it’s floating, with the shadow placement. lol
(We’re USAA too, and I’d never consider changing…)
Stefanie,
My hat is off to you! I knew you were very car-minded but I didn’t know you could rebuild an engine and weld. I’m sure you and Steve would have plenty to discuss, since you both love convertibles and engines. (I could just sit in the corner and wait for a battery to explode, or something.) 🙂
I’m so glad you pointed out the floating truck; I would never have noticed it otherwise. It truly does look like it is off the ground.
I do not change tires or jump batteries. I might be able to check my oil although with a new car, I’m not sure where the dip stick even is. I do have a AAA card that says 40 year member and have used it numerous times. One of the last times I used it before leaving Tampa, the technician told me I had been a member longer than he’d been alive.
The funniest story about a breakdown for me occurred my senior year in high school – some 44 years ago. It was a nice spring day and a friend and I were out on a Sunday afternoon on some nice country roads. I was driving my dad’s 1953 Chevy pickup with the shift on the column. All of a sudden, the truck just quit. This was long before the time of cell phones so my friend and I set out walking to the nearest farm house. Fortunately a very nice woman was home and let us call my dad. While we waited she gave us sugar cookies as I recall. It just happened that my aunt and uncle were visiting that day from Springfield, MO so everyone piled in the car to come help us out. My dad is not that mechanically inclined but they lifted the hood and discovered that the coil wire had fallen out – I have no clue what a coil wire is for and if they’re even on cars any more. My dad and uncle got a pretty good laugh out of this and to this day my uncle will remind me of the coil wire incident.
Phyllis,
You probably made the day of your parents and aunt and uncle, getting to take a Sunday afternoon jaunt to rescue you! And your dad got to be a hero finding that mysterious “coil wire.” 🙂
And some sugar cookies thrown into the deal? Not a bad day at all.
Well I did break down a very long time ago! Being a young 20 something I New very little about cars. So when my car wouldn’t start guess who I called? Your prnce charming!! He came and rescued a damsal in distressed!! Turns out it was my alternater, and had to be jumped many times to the shop!! Steve did it with a smile and rescued a damsal in distressed! I was a very happy that I could call a friend with a yes face!?
Catherine,
Well, that comment just made my whole day! 🙂 I had forgotten all about that incident but I’m so happy to hear about Steve helping out other damsels along the way. He’s a handy fellow to have on hand.
Thanks for that little trip down memory lane.
I cannot do any of those things! One night in the late 70’s I was coming home from an outdoor drama I helped with about five miles away. At the stoplight a mile from home my car died at 11:30 pm. My parents were not at home and I was single at that time. Just then a State Highway Patrol came to the light, put on his blue light and came over to assist. He pushed my car off the road to a vacant lot and took me home. When my parents got home a couple of hours later, Daddy and I went down and towed my car home. Seems it was a factory defect and was fixed at the company’s expense the next week. Thankful for that officer. I had just returned from driving to Indiana. So thankful it did not happen on that trip but at home. God is good all the time.
Ann,
That is certainly a memory to remember! Breaking down, alone, late at night is not a favorite thing for any woman to do. (Or any man, for that matter)
Thankful for a highway patrolman who was there to help just when you needed it!