by Sarah J. Blake
September 2, 2005
That one-way trip came sooner than I thought it could. By September 9, Hurricane Ivan, a category 5 storm, was predicted to make landfall south of Tampa and travel north right over the area. I shipped my three large electronic items: a musical keyboard, my desktop computer, and a scanner with built-in optical character recognition software and text-to-speech capability; packed all of my suitcases full of things I could not replace and things that were most meaningful to me; and crated the cats and headed out on September 10. This was not how I wanted to leave St. Pete. I had felt for a long time that I would eventually move away, but I always thought that I would have time to say goodbye and plan for a smoothe transition. Instead, I was moving back to Indiana with no plans for forming a support system or getting involved in new community activities. I had left most of my belongings in St. Pete, and I didn't know if they would even exist in a week. And I felt that even if my belongings were completely untouched, the hurricanes had all taken huge pieces of my dignity as a person with disabilities; and I didn't know how to replace it.
September 9, 2004
8:03 p.m.Living "independently" is very important to me--it's part of what maintains my emotional health. Lately as my migraines and the associated complex partial seizure-like symptoms have increased in frequency and severity, I have had to think a lot about whether I will be able to maintain the degree of independence that I have had all this time. But blindness is something I don't think about much because I've lived with it all my life and am used to the adaptations I need to make. I'm having to think about it now.
Hurricane Ivan is fluctuating between category 4 and 5, and forecasts seem to lean toward it heading for the same areas already ravaged by Charley and Frances. I have been keeping an eye on it and have decided to move out of Florida. This is supposed to be an unusually active season, and we didn't have big storms like this last year. But having two and possibly three major storms in a month has caused me to take a long look at my need for assistance from people in the community when I live on my own--and the fact that in a disaster situation people very often are in the midst of caring for their own families and aren't able to assist no matter how much they want to.
I've always taken living independently for granted--I can do my own cooking, cleaning, etc. I've had to explain to people that my messy house is the result of laziness and not the fact that a blind person can't clean her own house. But the most important aspect of living on my own is preparedness for the unknown. I'm not talking about stock-piling or even putting up storm shutters or having a first-aid kit ready. Those are very important things. But for a person with disabilities, preparedness also includes knowing how to get oneself and one's belongings and dependents (be they pets or children or disabled/elderly family members) to safety. I have met my match in that regard, and I am finding it necessary to admit that I don't have the resources to live independently in Florida. If I had a job and could establish an emergency fund... But I don't and can't, so it's time to move to a place where I can live safely. I've had this concept of independent living as being able to provide for my own needs, take care of myself in a crisis situation, etc. It's just not an accurate perception. I have natural limitations and areas where I cannot be completely independent. I'll be independent where I can be, but I'm not an island and will never just be able to fend for myself without very significant changes that don't seem to be in the works for me right now.
I have four animals, including my dog guide. In Florida it is against the law to leave pets during an emergency situation--at least, that's what I'm told. And I don't take my pets for granted any more than I would take my children for granted. Evacuation procedures have caused me a lot of stress. There are really no safe places in Florida and especially locally. We have built our society right out onto the water, and that's a big gamble. I don't have the luxury of choosing to drive away somewhere, which is what I would do if I could see. The only evacuation mechanism available to me is flying, and flying non-service animals is very expensive. I can't fly myself in and out over and over, let alone my animals. I took a lot of risks and chose to stay in town with Charley and Frances that I am no longer willing to take. Hurricane preparedness has taken a major toll on my emotional health, and nothing is worth that price to me.
When I arrived at the airport, kitties and Meghan in tow, I was informed that my ticket had never been paid for and I could not travel. I threw a fit that would embarrass even the most cocky person. I was not going to return home with a category 5 storm on the way, and they were going to let my uncle purchase that one-way ticket and I was getting on that flight whether anyone thought I was a terrorist or not! I tracked my uncle down on his cell phone, and he paid for the ticket again--and I handed over the cash for the cats' spaces--fortunately there was still room. Several people had the same idea and the airport was full of meowing and barking. Of course, all of my bags were dug through as if I was a serial murderer. I was terrified that I would miss the flight.
At the airport in Indianapolis, I was relieved when the three cat carriers were stacked up beside me and Mom described them: "Inca, a fat black one, and a gray one." Yes, those were my cats. One thing was going right.
One of the cats had urinated in her carrier and desperately needed a bath. We had no idea who had done it until we got home (an hour's drive) and took the carriers to the basement one at a time, removed each cat so Dad and I could inspect her, and then deposited her upstairs in the bathroom before repeating the process with the next cat. Inca had lived with me before I moved to Florida, so she made herself right at home. The next morning I found her sleeping in her old familiar chair. Sierra didn't have a fun time with the bath, and she stank for several days, although my dog guide did a very good job of comforting her and she didn't stay hidden once she was upstairs.
Amazingly, all of my electronics were in working order when they arrived. I was very grateful because I had doubted seriously that they would be. Those three items helped me to feel like I was at home even though many of my belongings were still in Florida. I watched the NHC site very dilligently, trying to plan a trip back down to ship the rest of my things. Dad wanted to drive down and pick them up; but I was afraid that the season was so active that there would not be enough time for a drive. Besides this, it really wasn't necessary--a friend had offered me a trip on some frequent flyer miles, and it would be cheaper for me to ship things than to rent a truck or trailer and drive.