Tuesday, February 2, 2010

The Plot Thickens

OK, this is really getting depressing. Let’s skip all of this “sick” stuff.

Let’s just say that I was a little under the weather for the next 3 – 4 days. The only interesting part of that story anyway was how I was able, with the help of 9 angels, (a story in itself) to not only survive, but to actually hide my little predicament from the Onsite staff. (Apparently, they just thought that I always sweated and shook like that.)

I did not sleep. I remember praying a lot. For the first 3 - 4 days most of my thought process centered around just how to hide this mess. I was stuck in damage control mode. My overall goal was to save my job, my marriage, my family, my finances, most of all my reputation.

Through it all there was always this nagging feeling that I was really missing something important. It was as if someone far away was screaming at me - trying desperately to get my attention

I did acknowledge how odd it was that Rusty just happened to be my roommate. I told Rusty that had it not been for him, I would have told everyone (myself included) that I had come down with some sort of flu bug, and that I needed to go home and reschedule this little adventure. But there was just something about this guy. Maybe it was the odd fact that he just happened to have been through all of this before. I continued to think how very insightful it was of this place to strategically place two people with such similar stories into the same room.

I remember giving my “There are no coincidences” speech. I remember telling them about my long held belief that everything in life happens for a reason. Publicly I gave the credit to God for bringing us all together. But honestly, privately, this little miracle was, at the moment, lost on me.

I do not remember the exact day the lights came on. It was either day 3 or 4. It was one of my worst days physically. I was sweating, shaking and cramping. I think it was on a lunch break. I was coming out of my cabin (I had just spent my 20 minute break in the bathroom) Rusty came up to me with a very strange look on his face.

“You are not going to believe this” he said quietly as he led me back into the cabin and laid his cabin key on the table.

I wasn’t following this at all. “What?” I asked impatiently, what’s wrong?”

“Look at the key!” he exclaimed. “Look at the room number!”

This explained a lot. It explained why Rusty didn’t have a water bottle with his name on it. I felt sicker.

It was the wrong key. Rusty had been in the wrong room all week. He had walk in that first day while Ralph and I were talking, and had never notice that he was in the wrong room.

Something finally clicked.

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