New Way to be Human

Nov. 18 2004, my Mom was diagnosed with Stage IV Lung Cancer. I started this blog to chronicle her journey. July 19, 2005 she gave her life in the battle. This blog is my place to process through the journey I walked along with her, and now my journey through grief. It's also a place to discuss the effects cancer has on the lives it touches--survivors and caregivers alike. I'm a Navy wife, a Mom, and my mother's daughter now and forever.

Wednesday, June 08, 2005

The... Glove Effect???

Who ever thought so much trouble would come from a pair of gloves?

So you've heard of the butterfly effect right? The idea that if a butterfly flaps her wings in Seattle that it'll start a hurricane over in the Carribean or what not?

With the Navy, apparently the culprit is gloves.

Andy got a pair on Monday, used them at work on Tuesday, layed them down in a safe place in the shop (Far away from any planes), and went on a lunch break. When he got back they were gone.

Now, they were nice gloves. He wanted them back so he mentioned they were gone. Of course, no one knew where they are.

There is this obsession that the aviation community has with something called FOD. I'm not entirely sure what the meaning or origin of the word FOD is except that it's loose stuff that can get stuck in airplanes and cause big problems... Andy's gloves were considered FOD.

First they ripped the shop apart looking for them. Then the plane. Day shift stayed late. Night shift worked on it. No gloves.

Andy calls after they finally let him come home and says--Were they in the planes I worked on? Nope...

We thought we were in the clear after that, but then a Chief called. *Note not only is it not good that a Chief was in the shop in the evening, it's never good when one calls you at home.* They had cancelled the Flight Schedule for the night. Six planes were on the ground because of a stupid pair of gloves that mysteriously walked off.

Andy went back in to work. They checked and rechecked and quadruple and quintuple checked EVERYTHING. No gloves. They're gone. Poof. The planes weren't flying. The brass was pissed. Bad juju folks.

It's not unheard of for people to have some significant disciplinary action as a result of something like this... including loss of rank.

Andy was sick... Angry, frusterated. The only thing we can figure is someone inadvertantly picked them up... or not so inadvertantly did... And you know they're not going to fess up anytime soon. Not when a perfectly good scapegoat and object of blame is in place.

We think it's going to be ok. Andy will be spending a lot of time with fellows in Khaki today that won't be any too happy with him... We are praying for a softening of their hearts and a little understanding--People put down their gear in the shop all the time. But it sure made for an awful night for us last night, and we shall see what will come of it.

I just can't help but wonder... When can things just be normal for us with no crises in the midst of our doing something that is already difficult? It's stressful enough to pack up and say good-bye without a pair of gloves derailing us into madness. Things could be so much worse. I know, but sometimes... When I'm not feeling like a big girl, I just want to go off into a corner, Pout, and shout, "IT'S NOT FAIR!"

But really... Six flights cancelled and a career possibly tarnished over a silly pair of gloves. Is life not bizarre?

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