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Things That Only Happen To Diane

We are all individuals and as such, each of us has things that only happen to us. I am no different. There are many things that only happen to Diane. Here are a few. See how they stack up against your constantly growing list.

  1. Novocain wears off.
  2. I get stuck in elevators.
  3. Automatic doors don’t open.
  4. Watches with metallic backs cease working properly.

We are all unique individuals and have one-of-a-kind experiences in the course of everyday life.  I feel I have more than most people.  Weird things that don’t seem to happen to anyone else, happen to me. Frequently.  Let me give you some examples.

I get stuck in elevators.  

I’m sure most of you have had an incident with a hinky elevator.  I have had too many to mention, so I’m going to narrow it down.  Last Saturday, I got in the elevator of my apartment building.  I took it down to the first floor.  The doors did not open.  The first-floor button started blinking.  Then it went out entirely.  I pressed the fourth-floor button to see if it would go up.  The button lit but the elevator did not move. 

At one point, I saw him standing on top of the actual elevator with a bunch of silver cables around him. It was nuts. When he left, the elevator seemed to be working smoothly.  Hurray!

Until… last Saturday morning, when I rode the elevator down to one and took a lovely morning walk to get some steps in before a two-hour Zoom class.  After my walk, I got into the elevator and pressed the fourth-floor button. Again, the elevator did not move.  

The up arrow started blinking wildly, but the elevator didn’t budge an inch.  

I couldn’t believe it!  Again? I knew the drill, so I stepped out of the elevator and heard it once again go up to the fourth floor. 

If these were the only times I’ve been stuck in an elevator, it be no biggie.  But as I’ve said, it’s not! Thirty years ago, I lived in Chicago and often made extra money being one of those annoying perfume-spraying gals at department stores.  I wore a silk shirt and a nice pink tweed skirt and heels.  At my break, I got into the ancient Marshall Fields elevator.  It had never been modernized.  

I stepped in, pushed the down button, and felt it drop a few feet and then stop.  

Nothing.  No movement.  I tried not to panic.  I thought surely when someone on another floor pressed a button, the elevator would go.  I’d wait it out a few seconds.  

Minutes passed.  I only had a 45-minute lunch hour.  I had no choice but to press the red elevator emergency alarm button.  I’d never pressed an emergency alarm in my life. Its scream vibrated my eardrums.  

Soon, I heard a voice above me.  Speaking through a tiny crack in the doors.  “We’ve called the Fire Department.  They are on their way.  Hold tight.” A huge sigh of relief.  Moments later the elevator doors above me opened all the way.  A fireman in full gear explained how I’d be rescued.  “I’m going to throw a rope down to you.  Then, I will rappel into the elevator, get you to hold onto me with your legs and arms, and others will pull the rope up. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I answered, realizing that to wrap my legs around him, the pink tweed skirt had to be hiked up above my knees.  

The fireman lowered himself down. His strong-looking face and very professional voice reminded me to wrap my arms and legs tightly around him.  Diane’s skinny 21-year-old self did her best. 

Someone yanked us up and finally, we landed at the open elevator doors.  Strong men roughly grabbed me out of his arms and gently stood me on the tiled floor.  My skirt dropped back down as customers cheered my rescue.  Several asked me how I felt.  I said fine but realized I really needed a bathroom. Badly. I thanked them and they turned to leave.  

My plan to run to the ladies’ room was thwarted by my legs.  They had turned to rubber.  Probably in some kind of shock. I’d never been “in shock” before.  I’d heard of other people being in shock and never gave it a second thought.  Now, I knew. Rubbery legs and a very dry mouth coupled with a suddenly full-to-bursting bladder situation.  

Thinking I was past all elevator chaos for the rest of my life, this past Tuesday, I took the elevator down to throw my recyclables in the blue bin on the side of my apartment building.  I opened the big blue dumpster, chucked in my stuff, took in the beautiful weather, and headed back in.  

I stepped into the elevator and pressed four.  

As luck would not have it, the elevator moved up a foot or two and stopped.  

Violently.  Quickly.  A dead stop.  Oh no.  This cannot be happening to me again! But it sure was.  I pressed the button for the first floor praying it would take me back down the few feet to my escape.  It lit up but did nothing.  I knocked on the elevator door.  “Hello!” Can anybody hear me?” I heard someone open an apartment door.  A female voice said, “Are you stuck?”

I said I was and asked if she could press the down button to see if it would call the elevator.  She did and nothing happened.  Her young voice suggested I press the “alarm” button and maybe that would contact the Fire Department.  I did so and got the female computer voice we are all familiar with: “The number you have dialed is not in service.  Please check the number and dial again.” The woman on the other side heard it too.  “I’m calling the fire department,” she said.  Seems like in this crazy situation, I’d been sent a Guardian Angel. 

I heard her calling in that there was a woman stuck in the elevator. 

 

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She told me they were sending someone.  I felt so lucky they were even in the area.  Less than five minutes later I heard the sirens and they were in my building on the other side of the door.  For the next hour, eight firemen worked every trick in the book to get the elevator to budge. When that didn’t work they tried to pry the doors open. Nope. As the minutes ticked by, they kept asking me how I was doing. Not being a novice at being victimized by an errant elevator, I said I was fine. Thank GOD I’d gone to the bathroom before heading out! And that I had my cellphone! I don’t always take it with me to simply toss some trash.

Finally, the doors opened and I was standing above them by a few inches. They told me to go slow and one fireman grabbed me in his arms, then gently set me down. Being single at 50, this is what I call “a date!”

Another fireman declared, “I’ve been doing this for fifteen years and you are the calmest person I’ve ever rescued from a stuck elevator.”

The others all agreed. I didn’t know what to feel about that. They said most peoples’ biggest fear is being trapped in an elevator. These firefighters had no idea this was my second malfunctioning elevator incident. Heck, I’m an old pro! (Watch this all unfold on TikTok at @whenyouarenolongerawife.)

You’d think that’d be enough unusual happenings for one lady, but you’d be wrong.  

Because there’s another weird thing about me.  Novocain wears off me very quickly.  During dental procedures, my dentist will come in with the big shot.  But she has learned from experience, that when it comes to me, she must have a backup shot.  We have a system, that while she is working, I am to raise my left hand when I start to feel pain.  She knows the amount of Novocain for all her other patients is not enough for me.  She surmises perhaps I have a fast metabolism. 

I love her because she cares enough to accommodate my problem and not make a big deal out of it.  I have had other dentists who simply would not believe me!  Like, I’m some Novocain addict lying to get more than I really need.  That’s so crazy.  How can a dentist not believe a patient? Thank God for Dr. Hanookai.

But there’s more!  Yup.  

Another really weird thing about me is that automatic door sensors often don’t sense me.  

I will step on the rubber mat at Home Depot or Macy’s and nothing.  The door stays shut.  This has happened hundreds of times.  For years my only remedy was waiting for some normal human to walk up behind me and trip the sensor.  

Then one day I decided to jump and land as hard as I could and Voila! Of course, the customers coming up behind me and the security guards on the other side look at me like I’m nuts.  But hey, whatever works, right? That seems like a lot of weirdness.  Yet, you know where I’m going.  There is one more thing.  

Watches with a metal back go haywire on my wrist.  

Cheap plastic backs cause no problem.  But that’s not my only Diane-only issue. For reasons I will never understand, wristwatches do one of several things.  Either the battery does not last as long as it should, or the watch slows down throughout the day.  It gets further and further behind as the hours pass.  This is the exact opposite of why we wear watches.  I like to ditch my phone and still know the time.  Unfortunately, it’s difficult for someone like me.  

I still try it occasionally as I have several really cute watches sitting in a lovely watch case, waiting their turn to be sprung from their felt prison.  I pull their stems out, so as not to waste battery life.  Alas, it makes little difference.  It gets to be an expensive hobby as the cost of those tiny batteries keeps rising.  I guess for now, I’ll stick with my cellphone unless or until that goes wonky too. Wish this Weirdo luck. Thanks.  I appreciate it.  You are released to go live out your normal lives. Perhaps next time we meet, I’ll tell you about how I was born without tonsils.

We all go through major life transitions when relationships end… Through the Leftat50.com website, I will share my thoughts as I walk the path of “New-Self” discovery. It doesn’t matter which side of 50 you are on. The real question is, Are you ready to live life? To forge a Path of Your Own Making (For a change!)? Then stop dwelling over the What-Might-Have-Beens and join me. Share your thoughts here, comment on mine, and let’s do this together! And check out my book, “Restarting Your Life When You Are. No Longer A Wife” I wrote it just for you!

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