The Cone of Uncertainty

If you live on the Gulf Coast, then you know exactly what I'm talking about. It's hurricane season, and when there is a storm brewing in the Gulf the possible track that it can take makes up the Cone of Uncertainty (imagine a man with a deep, reverberating voice saying that every time that you read it).

When we woke up yesterday morning, tropical storm Edouard had formed seemingly overnight. We begin making plans at work to have the patients call us before their appointment times, in case the storm wreaked havoc on the electricity and we were unable to treat them. I dutifully took home a list of patient phone numbers in the event that the weather worsened overnight and I couldn't get in to work to call them.

When I woke up this morning, the Cone of Uncertainty (Did you do it?...You know, the voice. It's important that you imagine the voice) had narrowed and we were right in the middle of it. Eduard made landfall between High Island and Sabine Pass. We live east of Houston, so we are right in the path, but luckily it never strengthened into a hurricane, and even if it had it would have only been a Category I. If you live on the coast, you don't really get concerned until you hear Category 3. The danger with the tropical storms is not the wind, but the rain.

So, I'm sitting here at work, watching the weather so I can get home if I need to. I work in Houston, so the weather here is not as bad as it is where I live. My concern is flash flooding, but since Trevor is at home with the kids today, he's keeping me updated on the current weather conditions.