When a magnitude-5.2 earthquake shook Kailua-Kona earlier this month, Kathy Urso frantically screamed while standing in the middle of the produce section at Costco.
She was stunned by her reaction, having previously lived in Los Angeles where quakes are a familiar occurrence.
“I started crying. I totally flipped out,” said Urso, 66. “I could not believe my reaction. I was so shocked at myself because I really don’t get scared and react like that. I guess it was PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) that kicked in full force.”
Urso still has nightmares about being abruptly awakened and evacuated from her Leilani Estates home in the early morning of May 3, when lava began erupting in the rural subdivision.
Three days later it devoured her home, which was surrounded by wild orchids and more than half a dozen fruit trees.
It was among the 716 homes destroyed over the course of the devastating three-month eruption in Lower Puna.
“There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of what I’ve lost,” said Urso, adding she is “still mourning” and often dreams “the lava’s coming.”
“I get scared to where I can’t breath — little panic dreams. It sucks. It really does.”
She has had two heart procedures over the past year to treat atrial fibrillation (commonly known as AFib), an irregular rapid heartbeat that can cause blood clots, stroke and heart failure, likely from the stress of the incident, Urso said.
“The night of the lava, I went right into AFib. The shock just throws it out of rhythm again. It’s like having a heart attack when something bad happens.”
She is also still struggling to rebuild her life.
Urso had to extend escrow twice while waiting for a low-interest disaster assistance loan to come through to purchase a house in Hawaiian Paradise Park farther north of Leilani Estates in Puna.
At the end of last year, she hired Hawaii Public Adjusters to fight for her claim and received an insurance payment that covered her mortgage. After paying the Hawaii Public Adjusters fee, “that didn’t leave a lot when you lose everything,” she said.
“It’s been torture waiting for the disaster assistance. It’s just taken forever,” she added. “I’m just holding my breath. I’m not counting my chickens before they hatch. I’m very nervous, excited and scared and all that stuff. It’s a year later, and I’m still waiting to start my life again.”
