Body

Early Monday morning I was awakened by what I thought, in my half-dream state, were raccoons or some other large critters running around on our roof and climbing in the gutters. Then I heard voices outside. I roused myself to look out the front window and discovered a row of city public works trucks outside, yellow lights blinking, and a backhoe with some kind of drill punching holes in the pavement in front of our neighbor’s driveway. Each punch made our house tremble.

Some mighty big raccoons!

The trucks were still there when the sun rose. Turns out a water main on our street had cracked open in this very frigid weather we’re enduring. So, no water for morning ablutions or anything else. Fortunately, Al had left a large plastic pitcher of water on the kitchen counter the night before, so I could use some to remove my bandages and wash my hands before re-dressing them, as well as water to rinse my eyelids, essential for my cleansing ritual for very dry eyes.

Within a few hours, a new pipe was installed and the crew began refilling the large open pit on the street. I went outside to thank them, because I’d learned from one of our neighbors that they’d been there all night. Not enough workers available to cover in shifts (another main had broken on a nearby thoroughfare the same night). The man I spoke with was very polite and informative, and he said our water would be back on soon.

Sure enough, within the hour, it flowed—gritty, at first, with a burst of trapped air, but running clear soon after.

The whole experience really struck me. It’s bad enough when power goes out in a storm. But losing water is truly disruptive. We’re so used to easy access. Just turn on the tap and fill your cup, wash the dishes, brush your teeth. Flush the toilet and, poof, your poop is gone.

It’s easy to criticize the city for a broken water main, for old infrastructure that hasn’t been updated, for all the inconvenience and disruption. But I am truly grateful to these guys for coming to our rescue in the middle of the night and staying the course in bitter cold to restore this most basic of needs. When I thanked the crew leader, he said, “It means a lot to hear that.” Another neighbor ran out and brought the crew a dozen doughnuts.

For all the disparaging remarks in casual chatter, on social media and elsewhere about government workers being lazy, corrupt, or otherwise deplorable, most are honest, hard working, and devoted to their jobs of making our lives easier. They truly deserve our respect and thanks.

Evelyn Herwitz blogs weekly about living fully with chronic disease, the inside of baseballs, turtles and frogs, J.S. Bach, the meaning of life and whatever else she happens to be thinking about at livingwithscleroderma.com. Please view Privacy Policy here.

Image: Joshua Junior