Don't Panic!

Going through an entryway recently, I freaked out. It was dark. No air was moving and the entry was a small space. The exit, a door leading from the mudroom to the garage, was in front of me but the sliding bolt wasn't moving. I panicked and starting clawing at the door. I probably looked possessed, or like one of those soon-to-be-chopped blondes in horror movies.

I got the door open and tumbled into the garage gulping, gasping and shaky. Then I remembered claustrophobia. It happens so infrequently that I forget what it's like, how horrible it is to be in the grasp of an irrational, undeniable urge to get out, get out, GET OUT NOW.

Claustrophobia makes me feel helpless because I can't control it. At least, I never have before, and one of the reasons is its always unexpected. If I knew where claustrophobia was going to occur I'd be prepared and maybe it wouldn't happen. I was turning that theory over in my head when I began to wonder what other panic-inducing situations I could handle if I were prepared.

Naturally, I thought of snakes in cars. In a No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency book, Precious Ramotswe runs over a large snake in the road. Several miles later, she realizes that she didn't see it's carcass in the rearview mirror as she drove away. That gave her cause to worry, and for good reason: the snake had writhed into the undercarriage of her car and could easily have slithered inside.

Yikes and yikes. Of course this is something I have to worry about. Snakes and I are not friends. There's this natural enmity thing I blame Eve for, and she didn't even have to drive a car that may or may not have a snake in it. Anyhow, the point is, I'm working on a plan so I'll be prepared if a snake slithers between my feet while I'm driving.