On May 20th, I was finishing up my Blood Bank rotation at the hospital in Norman. During my break, I watched Al Roker reporting live from the site of the Shawnee tornado that had hit the previous day. I prayed a quick prayer for everyone involved and went back to my oatmeal. We were expecting bad weather that day, but it was tornado season in Oklahoma, so bad weather is pretty common. All of our conversations that day centered around when the storm would hit and our personal tornado stories. Growing up in Kansas, I have definitely seen my share of tornadoes. Some of my lab mates had children, so they were making plans with their spouses to pick them up early from school. We had heard that the bad weather was coming in sooner than we expected, so people were trying to decide when or if they were going to get their kids before school let out.
I was crossmatching units and doing the usual blood bank thing, when a code black watch was announced. The code black watch was quickly changed to a code black warning. I figured if a tornado were to hit, being in the lowest floor of the hospital, I would be pretty safe. Pretty soon the loudspeaker came on yet again and announce a code black alert for the Moore branch of the hospital system. I had to ask someone what that even meant. I was told that meant a tornado was headed for the hospital in Moore. One of my fellow blood bankers brought up the news weather radar and pointed to the tornado icon on the screen. The tornado icon kept disappearing and reappearing, so we thought that the tornado was gone. I look up from the computer and notice that the lab was empty except for 2 other people. One was the lab supervisor. She informed me that I was to take shelter in the conference room. I had no clue where that was, but I headed in the general direction. I passed the break room and saw that people were in there watching the news. I stood there and watched footage of a giant tornado in Moore and hearing street names that were close to where I live. I started texting my husband to let him know I was taking shelter, but none of the texts were going through. I also had about 6% battery power left. I spent time going back and forth from the blood bank to the break room. People were asking to leave and some were expressing concern over the path of the tornado and its close proximity to schools in the area. I was at the hospital for an hour past when my rotation was done. We were told not to leave until we got the all clear. I stood and watched the live footage of the tornado ripping through my town. They started showing the damaged areas and they were showing areas very close to my house. I tried spotting it from the aerial footage, but wasn't sure what I was looking at, since some of the landmarks were badly damaged or completely gone. Without even thinking, I just said, "I don't think I have a home anymore." Some people looked over, noticing me for the first time. Being the student, I was used to being ignored.
After what seemed like years, I was given permission to leave. I whiteknuckled it the whole way home. I didn't know which route to take. I didn't know what I was going to find. I just kept thinking about my two cats at home. I could replace stuff, but I couldn't replace them. I could see smoke from a burning house and could easily tell when I was getting closer to Moore. I could see debris in yards. Turning into the neighborhood, I breathed a sigh of relief. Our house was fine. The yard was covered in trash that we later discovered was school assignments, photos, remainders of a George Jones album cover and insulation. Our roof looked like it was hit by giant spitballs made of insulation. I heard from my husband. I returned texts. I updated my Facebook status letting everyone know we were fine. I was alive. I was blessed.
I've been dealing with a huge rollercoaster of emotions this week. I feel so relieved, so lucky that our house is still standing. I feel guilty that I'm fine and there are people who lost their home and, in some instances, their family or children.Every time I talk about the tornado, I fight back tears and am immediately ashamed. Since I didn't lose a house or loved one, I feel like I don't have a right to feel this way. I feel hopeless that I couldn't get out there and help right away. We got a phone call from the City of Moore, telling us to stay put and not go anywhere unless it was an emergency. I feel ashamed that I was worried about my cats. I am amazed when friends of mine are so upbeat when they have lost the literal roof over their heads. I am mad at the looters and the rubberneckers who drive by to gawk and risk a traffic accident to take pictures. There are positive feelings underneath the negative ones.I feel good that we have the money and opportunity to help those affected. We dropped off book bags and stuffed animals at a local church for the students who lost their school and fellow classmates. I am proud of my transplanted home and that people have joined together to help others. Local restaurants are feeding people affected by the tornado free of charge and the amount of supplies gathered is astounding.I am proud to live in Moore.
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