Well it's that time of year again!

Two years ago today, I was making my rounds on a full patient load. In a few hours, the winds would start blowing, the rain would start falling. In a few days, I would have lost at least 10 lbs, some of my mind, and a few patients. In a few weeks, I would be rejoicing that my pets made it out alive, and that none of my friends or family perished. In a few months, the fact that I was pregnant would start to settle in, and I would be able to be excited about it. In a year I would have wondered if I would ever get back to New Orleans, and if I would ever get some closure on my experience during the storm. In another year I would realize that two years just isn't enough time.

Not enough time to heal all the wounds
Not enough time to rebuild my home
Not enough time for New Orleanians to come back
Not enough time for crime to subside
Not enough time for mental health to rebound
Not enough time for politics as usual
Not enough time to fix the levees
Not enough time to focus on schools
Not enough time to remember what normal is.

Two years ago today, I found out how much I love my husband, and what it means to be scared for your life. Two years ago today, I would witness the remarkable abilities of mankind, and the horrors of people in a panic.

It's like time hasn't passed at all, and yet it has.

Jacob is over a year old.
I've gone through 2 jobs.
That trash pile on West End is gone.

What the fuck did Katrina do to New Orleans?

I guess I'm about to find out. I moving back. It's an entirely selfish reason; I want to be home. I don't know how to live anywhere else. But I realize that I'm bringing my son into a world that wasn't quite the same as it was two years ago. I don't watch the news, never really have anyhow, but the fear that they broadcast doesn't help me any, so why watch it? I know people kill each other, I know it's horror story after horror story after horror story. And if something Bad were to happen on account of me moving my family back home, then go ahead and just add my name to the Post-K suicide list.

But perhaps I'm being dramatic.

Perhaps all we need, instead of the daily fear, is a wee bit of hope.
And why not? Why would we choose to live in fear, in despair?

So perhaps, perhaps we can throw ourselves towards the good fight, towards that ray of hope. Hope that crime will subside, and the Golden Rule will Rule.
Hope that the Children will feed the ducks, eat their snowballs, and catch their beads unharmed.
Hope that the educators and entrepreneurs will embrace this city.
Hope that we have the power to heal each other, and ourselves.
And hope that Katrina will long be history when another Hurricane hits New Orleans.

And when another hurricane hits, I hope we will have learned a few lessons...

or at least had a hell of a hurricane party.