Cry Me A River

I've been told that before a great blessing comes a great tribulation.
Just one of those adages that people throw around when they are expected to say something consoling.
Interestingly enough, though, I applied it to myself in reverse. Since getting married to Mark next month is a super-duper awesome blessing, I figured I'd better prep myself for some trials.
Not big things, but the tempting minutia of life--like eating donuts or becoming impatient and rude with people. Just small little tributaries of the Great River Tribulation.

Last Sunday, after attending a two-day course to teach healthcare professionals how to resurrect a manikin [it's tough stuff, let me tell you], I drove to College Station to spend time with Mark. Shortly after arriving, I got a call from the girl who had taken temporary charge of my dog. The sweet Potato had broken her leash and ran away.
I couldn't go back that night, because searching for a dog in the dark in Houston is not a good idea, so Mark and I decided that I would drive back the next day, after waiting for morning traffic to clear.
Um, didn't happen. Very early Monday morning, I woke up from my sleep at a friend's house with a call from Mark. In a raspy voice, he told me he was at the hospital.
[My first thought was that he had called me in his sleep, so to check his mental awareness I asked him what day it was. Standard nursing thing. He didn't appreciate it.]
I drove to the ER to pick him up, where I learned that his uvula had swollen and blocked off his airway. It got better...after a couple shots of steroids and benedryl. He was sent home on oral steroids and, yup, more benedryl, which meant that the rest of my visit (through Tuesday evening) consisted of Mark sleeping. And me having nightmares that he couldn't breathe and I couldn't find him.

In-between work shifts, I tried to manage search and notification efforts for my dog, continue wedding prep stuff (like cake. I still needed a cake. But we're good now), and study for my pharmacotherapeutics exam the following week. Because, if you recall, I'm in grad school. Yay grad school.
All of this individually is not that hard to handle. Unfortunately, the timing lined up just right, on top of 3 twelve-hour shifts, so by the time Sunday night came around, I was very near collapse. My top speed driving home from work was 20mph, since any jolt hurt my head far too much.

And then it rained.

All night.

All day.

Forget crying a river; I've got a lake outside my apartment. 

I was fine, my car was fine, my cat was fine (I'm hoping that somewhere, my dog is fine), but Mark obviously couldn't come visit me as we had planned.

We commiserated over the phone.

Then I called my dad, and informed him that I was alive.

The amusing part is that I often state obvious facts such as that, so he wasn't too impressed at first. Once he grasped the humidity of the situation, though, he said I was doing well. 

"Well?! I've just had the second worst migraine of my life. I can't leave my apartment complex. Mark is 2 hours away. There is so much in my life right now that, while I am not literally drowning, I feel figuratively drowned."

He patiently listed my life lines:

-I've got a wonderful guy who is going to marry me

-My family loves me

-I have a fulfilling and engaging job

-I have pretty good health

-I have pretty good health insurance

-My schooling is mostly paid for by work

-I have food and water storage

-I have a reliable source of transportation

-I have electricity

-I have wonderful friends at work and from church

-I've got a cat for company (okay, he didn't list that one, but it's true)

And there's so much more: my bed, my country, my religion, my education; so many reasons to be grateful. Some more serious than others.

Basically, peeps, rain is not the only thing coming down.

prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it