Most of my family has left New Orleans in the aftermath of the storm -- one brother and his family are staying at a family member's house in Boone, NC (which they report is lovely, with a temperature yesterday of 66 degrees and low humidity); and my wonderful nephew is staying with his parents (my other brother and SIL) in Gulf Shores, AL. This nephew just heard that power has been restored to his apartment, and that his landlord is willing to wait for this month's rent, which is good news.
My father stayed in his assisted living facility. I spoke to him yesterday, and he seems in good spirits. Their power was out (the generator failed) but he said they were working on it. He sounded much more alert and aware than usual, though my brother tells me that when he spoke to him -- shortly before I did -- he was bewildered and confused, and kept asking why he couldn't get his Google Assistant to work. I suppose that's common with this disease -- the flashes of awareness, then the descent back to the dark.
I used to bike past this refinery back when I lived in New Orleans and was riding my bike 30 or 40 miles every day. One of my uncles worked there (the one who died of cancer in his early 50s). I've always suspected the toxins this place spills into the environment non-stop caused my cancer and the cancer of so many of those who went to my school. Cancer alley, we called this stretch of land.
No comments:
Post a Comment