MEMORIES OF THE ARCTIC VORTEX

       The temperature is supposed to hit 30C this afternoon. As I sit in air-conditioned comfort I remember a weekend that seems so long ago, but actually wasn’t. Here is what I thought at the time:

       My windows are shut tight. The Weather Network, muted because of the early hour, reports that the temperature is -17C. The wind chill, the temperature you actually feel on your skin, is -27C. The extremes of cold are due to something called the arctic vortex hovering over our region. My understanding of the vortex is that it is a mass of brutally cold air from the far north that, because of air currents, has escaped its rightful place and descended on us poor southerners without mercy.

       In these conditions Environment Canada issues many warnings to dress warm and keep skin covered. The risk is of frostbite. It can happen in a matter of minutes to exposed skin. The city also attempts to get the homeless into shelters. Sleeping out in these conditions could result in death.

       For my part, there is little I can do to help others in these circumstances. I have few resources and, due to *COPD, I stay inside during these vortices. I have, on a few occasions, found myself in a panicky state, unable to breath, in extreme cold. Retreating to a warm environment at those times brings slow relief, but eventually the flow of air returns. I can only wish them well in Toronto where the NBA All-star Game festivities are underway this weekend.

       Today, when I would usually be facilitating the writer’s group at the library, I will be burrowed in at home with all the windows shut and the heat at a comfortable level. I will read and perhaps write; I may watch a movie. What I will not do is venture out of doors, not even bundled in a parka, scarf, toque, gloves, and boots. A few deep breaths of this frigid air will all but paralyze me and I want no part of it.

       I may not be the cold-resistant, stereotype of a Canadian that the rest of the world expects, but I can breath and sit around with no shirt on, sip coffee, and be content in my small one bedroom cocoon. Someone else can be the rugged stereotype - at least until the vortex returns to the far north where it belongs. 

 

(*Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease. For more information see: http://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/copd/basics/definition/con-20032017 )