This past week I've had a cold. Normally colds are more of a nuisance than anything, but this one has kicked my butt. Yesterday was the worst, with head and chest congestion, body aches, and fever. At one point I remember thinking I was going to die, or wishing I would. Okay, so sometimes I get a little melodramatic when I don't feel well. At least it makes me appreciative when I do feel healthy. Today I'm feeling much better, and some of that is because my tiny little cold has been put in perspective.
This morning, at about 5:30 A.M., we had a drunken young stranger wander into our house, crouch in the corner of our living room, and puke. Normally I lock all the doors before I go to bed, but because I was sick, the doors didn't get locked. I don't know why she chose our house, it's not like the door is even a straight shot from the curb, but for whatever reason, she tried our door and felt free to come in and use the corner of the room as, well...you know.
Let me back up and describe what happened. I woke up coughing, so I got up, used the restroom, refilled my water glass, took some more cold medicine, then climbed back into bed. I had barely closed my eyes when I heard Brian and someone talking. Brian had moved to the sofa in the family room earlier in the night because my coughing was keeping him awake. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but the other voice definitely wasn't one of our sons', it was too high. I thought maybe it was one of my youngest son's friends, but still...at 5:30 A.M.? That was just too weird. Then Brian yelled to me, "Denise, I need you to put on some clothes and come out here. Someone just came into our house and threw up!" It was very surreal. Kneeling in the corner of our living room was a teenage girl in a t-shirt and shorts, no shoes, completely oblivious to the fact that she was in someones home that she didn't know. I bent down and tried to talk to her, ask her name, etc, and it was very obvious that she was drunk. I doubted she was old enough to be drinking at all. I finally got her first name out of her, and she asked for a bed to lay down in. I said, "No, you're not going to sleep in one of our beds." Then told Brian to call the police. What else were we supposed to do with her?
Brian called the police and walked out onto the front step while he was talking with them. While he was out there, another young woman came down the street and Brian figured out that she was looking for the girl in our house. Intending to get the drunk girl into her friend's car, we got her outside, and to the sidewalk, where she threw up one more time, then decided that the cement would make a fine substitute for a bed, and proceeded to lay down on it. Brian stayed outside while I went back in and cleaned up the contents of her stomach out of our carpet. Apparently the girl had just barely turned 19.
I will never understand how getting that drunk is fun.
This past week, Clark and Isaac went on a "Pioneer Trek" with the youth from our church. It was intended to simulate a portion of what the Mormon pioneers, who crossed the plains with handcart companies, went through. We were expecting the boys to be back yesterday at about 4:00 P.M., but early in the afternoon we got a phone call, telling us that the children were delayed by several hours. One of the men, a friend from our ward, had a heart attack as they were hiking back to the busses, and passed away. He was only 55 years old. His wife and two teenage children were all on the trek together. They have four adult children who weren't on the trek. I can't even begin to imagine what his wife, Jenny, is going through, but she is an amazing, strong woman. The couple were both supposed to speak in church today. Astonishingly, she still gave her talk. I wasn't there because I'm still not feeling great, but I wish I had been. She is an incredible example. As I said, it puts my pitiful problems into perspective.
