The Tempest Within

Admittedly, with each snag in our plans, our stress and anxiety increased. We began to question our initial decision to stay put. Had we missed our opportunity to get out of town?

Then, thankfully, the phone rang. Our friend’s daughter had miraculously secured us hotel rooms about 30 miles from our home.

The strangest thing about riding out a hurricane is that you have days of anticipation and action—you prepare—and then you just have to wait. In the confines of our “bunker,” we had naught to do but track the storm. For three days, local television stations aired only the weather; there was no respite from the red tracking markers. The endless barrage of information added to our already heightened stress levels. We wondered what we would face once we returned home. The thought of major damage sickened us.

Three days after Irma visited, we were cleared to head home. We were admittedly nervous to see what she had left behind—but incredibly, we found our house exactly as we had left it. We hugged each other, in tears. The surrounding damage ranged from minor to major, but thankfully, no one was injured. Neighbors who had fled town asked us to send pictures of their homes so they could see for themselves. The consensus: What was broken can be fixed; we are all thankful to have survived. In a way, I expected that to be the end of the story. But I was wrong.

In my February 2010 editorial, I addressed the aftermath of the earthquake that had struck Haiti the month before.¹ Seven years later, 2.5 million Haitians are still in need of humanitarian aid, and 55,000 people are in camps and makeshift camps.² You might be thinking, “An earthquake in Haiti is much different from a hurricane in the United States.” That may be true, but some victims of Hurricane Sandy are still trying to repair damage to their homes, five years later.³ So while Hurricanes Irma and Harvey—let alone Hurricane Sandy—are already off the front pages, the despair, emotional impact, and disbelief associated with the disasters endure. As one woman described, “You’re in complete shock. You’re trying to figure out, ‘Is this happening to me? Am I in some sort of dream I can’t wake up from?’”³

We are not people who are easily discouraged or quick to worry about things we can’t control. But this experience was very different: The sensory overload was unnerving, and the anxiety and stress linger. As a result, I have an entirely new perspective on the effect of disaster on mental health. The worst we suffered was four days without power, yet as I write this weeks later, I find myself in tears, reliving the fear and anxiety we felt during Irma’s wrath. We were ready for a hurricane, but not for the emotional turmoil that has followed.

Have you experienced a disaster, natural or otherwise, that left you shaken? Share your experience, and any advice you may have, with me at NPEditor@frontlinemedcom.com.