Hurricane Ike churns west, triggers fears

And for Suzanne Bonner, that means the days of blissfully lying in bed and listening to the rain no longer exist. Instead, alarms sound at 5 a.m. so she can check the latest forecast. She turns to the Weather Channel instead of watching a tennis match. And the first spot on her speed dial is reserved for a contractor, not her husband.

While there's always a certain nonchalance among those who call islands and coastal lands their home, it is different for those who have lived through devastation--and fear that tragedy is again on its way.

"I, like everybody else, would get excited about it and visualize strapping myself to a tree in the winds," 62-year-old Bonner said. "It's not until you go through a major hurricane like Andrew and you realize the severity of it and that it's not a joke. You're never the same after that. You never look at rain the same."

It was 1992's Hurricane Andrew that destroyed her dream home and changed her life. Then, 13 years later, Hurricane Wilma damaged it all over again. In between and since, there have been countless storm warnings that kick up her anxiety.

It's a story heard all along the Gulf Coast and in the Caribbean, the prime targets for hurricanes.

In Fort Lauderdale, at the Anxiety Treatment Center at Nova Southeastern University, patients have been mentioning fears about Hurricane Ike more than in storms of years past.

"People are very anxious and this uncertainty of what's going to happen actually causes them to feel worse," said Craig Marker, a psychologist there. "With all the false alarms, I would expect that people would think of this as another false alarm. But it's almost like they feel an expectation it's about to come again."

It's toughest on those who've been through disaster before.

Lauren Bronleewe grew up in Tampa and always thought of hurricanes as holidays. Some of the best parties she attended in high school were when a storm was looming.