This strange thing happens to me whenever I am faced with an immediate crisis. I do not panic, I do not scream or cry or start shaking.
Instead I morph into Crisis Commander, thinking of all the practical things that need to be done. I call doctors, I bandage pets, I check to see what kind of damage has happened to the car. I am no Florence Nightingale when it comes to by bedside manner, but I will take care of you the best I can, by doing what I do best: organizing. Planning. Fixing things.
And so this morning, when I came home from the gym and found Kevin sitting in the living room, my reaction to the news that he'd been in an accident sent me into Crisis Commnder mode.
Was he okay? Yes.
Was the car still drivable? Yes.
Was the other person okay? Yes.
I patted his back, I played it off as something not too terrible, I tried to get him to see it as that so he would be able to calm down, I made lame jokes and looked at the car and reminded him to call his insurance this afternoon. And then I hugged him tightly and shuffled him off to work, because after 4 accidents of my own, I know that the best thing to do is get back to reality.
I did not let myself think about how lucky he was that the freeway is nearly deserted when he goes to work, so there were less cars that could have hit him once he spun around. I didn't let myself think about how glad I am that he left while it was still dark so that his lights were on and were able to alert other drivers to the fact that he was facing the wrong way. All I let myself think about was that he was okay, he was safe and unhurt and the car is still drivable and the other driver was okay and we would be fine.
Because if I thought about the rest of it, about what could have happened, I would have broken down, I would have lost it, because that right there? My worst nightmare. And besides...then who would have gotten everything organized?
Instead I morph into Crisis Commander, thinking of all the practical things that need to be done. I call doctors, I bandage pets, I check to see what kind of damage has happened to the car. I am no Florence Nightingale when it comes to by bedside manner, but I will take care of you the best I can, by doing what I do best: organizing. Planning. Fixing things.
And so this morning, when I came home from the gym and found Kevin sitting in the living room, my reaction to the news that he'd been in an accident sent me into Crisis Commnder mode.
Was he okay? Yes.
Was the car still drivable? Yes.
Was the other person okay? Yes.
I patted his back, I played it off as something not too terrible, I tried to get him to see it as that so he would be able to calm down, I made lame jokes and looked at the car and reminded him to call his insurance this afternoon. And then I hugged him tightly and shuffled him off to work, because after 4 accidents of my own, I know that the best thing to do is get back to reality.
I did not let myself think about how lucky he was that the freeway is nearly deserted when he goes to work, so there were less cars that could have hit him once he spun around. I didn't let myself think about how glad I am that he left while it was still dark so that his lights were on and were able to alert other drivers to the fact that he was facing the wrong way. All I let myself think about was that he was okay, he was safe and unhurt and the car is still drivable and the other driver was okay and we would be fine.
Because if I thought about the rest of it, about what could have happened, I would have broken down, I would have lost it, because that right there? My worst nightmare. And besides...then who would have gotten everything organized?
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