ZenVeg and Other Nonsense

The Approach

January 25, 2025

Eight years ago, I had a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. It was a frigid February day in Richmond, Virginia. In the stealth of night, the temperatures dropped like a chunk of titanium and brought freezing precipitation which is Richmond’s weather specialty. State Governmental offices as well as schools and many organizations shuttered for the day because along with that stinging blast of ice needles in the sky comes black ice on almost every surface that isn’t straight up dirt. While it was great to have a “snow” day, I was anxious because my program with the State was facing an audit. I had been Director for about six months and my boss had prepared me for the worst. That was the No-Good piece.

Along with the cold, my nasty, non-insulated brick ranch dosed with me the usual dilemma – frozen pipes. The bathroom and kitchen, which were the water feed entry points, badly needed renovation and as such, a 10-degree day wreaks havoc. Usually, patience and the eventual breaking of the cold snap allows for the thaw. In the meantime, I bundled up like an Inuit and went to the Family Dollar for some gallons of water.

Walking back thru the parking lot, a Richmond ambulance team was idling there having a snack. I gave them a little wave. Since I was already bundled up, I put the water in the house and grabbed a broom to clean off the car. My super grippy boots and mittens and hat helped me work up a bit of body heat. I wondered if the doors would even open in the morning, or if the ice would have them still in lockjaw status. I worked my way around the car until I was in front of it and then, just like that, a patch of black ice knocked me off my feet with an intensity of about 412 banana peels. My right hand, holding the top of the broom, instinctively let go and that right hand hit the asphalt first. I swear it took the brunt of my body weight because I soon realized I was severely injured. This was Horrible.

Somehow, I got up and managed to remember the ambulance. I walked back to that parking lot and knocked on the side and in my almost shocky state managed to state my issue. The dude immediately hopped out and told me he wanted to remove my mitten and inspect. He did. I was close to passing out.

“Oh, yeah, you’re going to the emergency room.” He helped me inside. I could see my limp, useless hand was distorted, but I managed to keep my wits and let them know that I needed them to stop by the yellow house so that I could get my neighbor to go in my house and get my purse. Insurance Card!

Once at the ER, I was sharing the floor with about a dozen other “black ice” victims. One guy shattered a hip. Others were in for concussions, broken femurs, assorted orthopedic injuries such as mine. The ER doc informed me that my wrist was in bad shape, BUT he would try to reduce the fracture (right the bone) anyway and I was going to receive some Ketamine prior to. In my shocked, hyper-reactive, traumatized brain, I seemed to connect, albeit in slow motion, that Ketamine was the “date-rape” drug. Right? Was I crazy? Too late, IV in, Trish OUT! This requires an entire Substack entry on its own so here is the Reader’s Digest version.

Soon, Trish had floated out of her body and travelled 20 feet over to join the nurses at the nurses’ station where she saw two interns (Jessica and Natalie) join the ER doc for some training. (I never saw them until after I was involved in my acid-trip with Ketamine). Somehow, my sub-conscious saw their nametags. Then, I started to come “to” after my trip, but my filters were not only down, but they were also back at my house 2 miles away. I proceeded to shout F-bombs at everyone in the ER for 20 minutes. I started some illogical argument with a nurse named Brad. I remember being loud like a bar drunk. The ER doc and the nurses were laughing hysterically at my nonsense. Lesson learned? Trish is wildly allergic to Ketamine. This was TERRIBLE. I can’t fathom how anyone does that drug for fun.

Reduction failed. Cast went on. Surgery was the next step. I called my bestie Cindy to fetch me, and she dropped me off at the city digs. After getting a bit organized, I sat on the couch and somehow heard a foreign sound. It was a whoosh/trickle/zinging. I forced myself, in my cast and sling to go out in the tundra and open the crawl space door where I encountered an unintentional water feature under my house!!! Burst pipes. This was also VERY BAD!!!!! My kudos go to the Richmond DPU who I called to come turn off my main. Even if I had the tool, I couldn’t do it with one arm. I defend them now after Richmond’s recent water crisis because of their promptness for me 8 years ago.

So, The Approach, for me is to remember that even though today, I am still encountering a frozen water feed to my toilet and kitchen sink, it could certainly be worse. I can hardly believe I survived that 24-hour span of time eight years ago. I must have some deep wells of resiliency that rose up and served me well. That adverse day steeled me to weather thru this water-depriving cold snap. With patience, space heaters, jacking up the thermostat, the water returned, as of this publication. The toilet can flush and the kitchen flows.

And on a slightly political note, stay engaged. It is good to look at a variety of news sources (keeping social media for entertainment) and using your critical analysis. If you totally check out, you might not have seen the recommendation to keep cats inside because housecats are eating infected wild birds and contracting Avian flu. We need to know stuff, even if painful, annoying, scary.

Hope you go boldly into this topsy-turvy world, stay sane, plant some kale and beans and sunflowers. We shall survive.

Till next time –

Foul-mouthed Trish.