It Was a Dark Night

It’s snowing outside. Hard. The rushing winds from the mountain swoop down onto my house, blowing open the front door and letting in the cold snow. I managed to barely find enough energy to creep to the living room leaning on every wall, chair and table in my path so I don’t fall over, and slam the door shut. But it won’t last long. The stove isn’t on, either. Somehow, I had enough energy to fill the stove with pellets, but I am far too weak to walk out to the office and grab the torch to light the stove. Somewhat disappointed, I go back to my room. After two hours of vomiting, I am still lying down with three blankets, sweats, a thermal sweater, socks, a beanie and a hooded sweatshirt. And I’m still shivering.

Aside from breaking my collar bone and getting the stomach flu in Thailand a few years ago, I don’t think I’ve ever had such a bad night of sleep, if I got any sleep at all. The pain in my back was excruciating. So much so that I had to keep rolling over so I wouldn’t feel the pain from laying stagnant.

I had texted Christa to bring in the torch when she left the office. An hour or so went by, and I had no response. I wonder if she had already left for Ben and Gena’s? Was I going to lie in pain and in the cold for the rest of the night? She then texted me back and said she was in the Lodge and heading to the office.

She comes into the house, and I hear her light the stove. I also hear her slam the door shut as it had blown open again. It’s so cold that it didn’t even make a difference whether or not the door was open.

I’m saved.

It was slowly getting warmer. I could start to feel my feet again, and the shivering was subsiding. But I was alone.  Literally and emotionally. All of my roommates had now left, going to Ben and Gena’s place to watch a movie on their new TV. Aside from Mom, there was only one other person whom I wished was here, but we said our goodbyes not two days ago. That was probably just as painful as the pain in my back.

I turn back over.

The pain (physically and emotionally) is so bad I can’t even cry, although tears start to well up just a tad bit.

It was a long, dark night.


It Was a Dark Night

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