A City of Cold and Insufferable People

I woke up to silence. A rarity in this city. There was a thump from the man who lives above me, but it was muted. Like I was listening underwater. 

The cold winter air drifted through the crack in my window. The rickety panes never let it shut all the way. A soft light shone through my curtain. A light that usually came about before my morning alarm woke me up. I glanced at the clock on my nightstand. 5:45am. I had fifteen minutes until my alarm would shatter this gentle morning. 

I pulled my quilt closer. The dense knit trapping my body heat. My pillows created a fortress around my head, warding off any unwanted chills. 

The sound of my breathing was amplified within my chamber of warmth. I appreciated the ability to breathe through my nose, who knew how much longer I would survive this winter without catching a cold. I dreaded the feeling of a constantly runny nose. The little drip that would freeze at the tip of my nose on my long commute to work. The snotty tissues that filled my coat pockets and the sweaty socks that I would peel off my feet after a long day of wearing my winter boots.

The sickness was inevitable. I was determined to enjoy the few good days I had left during this chilly time. I’d started scheduling all my meetings sooner rather than later so I can present while my voice was still clear, and my eyes weren’t puffy. As soon as I get sick, they’ll use it as another excuse to not listen to me. Not only would I be a woman under the age of 30, but my female brain would be clouded by cold medicine and fever. The men in my department will find any excuse to discredit me. 

 I needed to get up and shower. Get to the hot water before it runs out. Can’t be showing up late to work with greasy hair. They’ll whisper about “how I’ve really let myself go” and “how I’ve really fallen behind on my personal hygiene” as they stand there with their five o’clock shadows from three days ago wearing shirts with coffee stains on them. 

I used to shower at night because there was always hot water and it gave me more time in the morning to sleep in. Everyone else in the building seemed to shower in the morning so not only was I exhausted, but I had to take a cold shower. With the chill that seemed to have invaded my room everyday since the end of September I didn’t want to have to sleep with wet hair so morning showers it was. I’ve been saving up to buy a hair dryer. 

Every time I get close, something needs to be fixed. The space heater will die, or my computer will stop working. One time I got mugged on my way to the store. They took a whole $67 from my wallet. That was my grocery money. Plus, the payment for the emergency room visit really put me back. 

I was aroused from my memory by the beeping of my alarm clock. It sounded dull too. Like it was coming from far away. I snaked my arm out from under my quilt and whacked it in the spot where the off button is. I felt it click into the palm of my hand. Silence. 

My arm was cold from its brief introduction into the morning air. I pulled it back inside my cocoon of warmth. Savoring the feeling before I had to get up. I closed my eyes for just a minute. Letting my mind and body to prepare for the shock of frigid air in the apartment. 

I heard the quiet gurgle of the coffee maker; my roommate was just getting back from her night shift. I opened my eyes and looked at the clock 6:15 am. I have to get up. 

I let the promising smell of coffee beans rouse me from my bed. I shuffled to the door and yanked on my bathrobe. The door handle was ice in my hand. 

Shuffling down the hallway I waved to Jane as she headed off to bed. Her scrubs wrinkled and damp around the ankles. 

“I’d leave early for work if I were you. It snowed last night.” I looked to see her sneakers covered in melting ice next to the door mat. I heard the soft click of her door shutting before I could respond. I went over to the living room window and pulled the curtain to the side. 

Everything was white. There was an icicle hanging from the top of the windowpane, shimmering in the morning light. An icy dagger. 

“Crap,” I mumbled to myself. A snowstorm like this could paralyze the city in an instant. It could take me an hour to get to work if the roads aren’t clear. 

I clicked on the television. The tired screen flashed to life showing a commercial for Kool-Aid. I changed the channel to 52 and watched the traffic cameras show picture after picture of bumper to bumper traffic. I didn’t even pay attention to the streets because it would soon be every street.

“Crap, crap, crap...” I scurried into the bathroom, shedding clothes as I went, and turned on the shower. I was met with the icy blast of cold water. Standing there naked and shivering, I considered my options.

~                 ~ ~

The frozen slush sloshed into the holes in my sneakers. You know the ones that are supposed to make your shoes breathable. They just made my feet cold. 

It was only cloudy when I walked to the hospital for my shift. I hadn’t checked the weather, so I hadn’t known to plan for snow. 

The world was just waking up as I was leaving work. The sky barely light, the city still quiet, muted from the blanket of snow. I’d accepted another night shift because I needed more hours. Spending my only free night this week working in the emergency room was a necessary evil in my life. I was running tight on rent money.

Snowstorms always brought the homeless to our waiting room. Most were just looking for a break from the cold. We left it up to the nurses to send them back out to the street. We couldn’t offer them anything. There were too many of them. We couldn’t help them all, so it was hospital policy to help none of them. Ya know, fairness and all that.

We left them out in the cold. Shivering and starving. Most of the homeless shelters had a limit to how many nights you could stay and how many people they would take in. The shelters we have couldn’t help even half the homeless population in this city. 

I passed a few of them on my walk home. Huddled in doorways next to no trespassing signs and sitting in the bus shelters. I can’t blame them. This cold is brutal. The wet snow chills you to your bones. I wish I could help. I’m sure I can somehow, but right now I can barely help myself. 

I zipped my jacket higher under my chin. The wind was picking up and blowing the snowflakes into my eyes. Only four more blocks to go. 

The streets were empty of the normal morning walkers. It was too cold for anyone to leave the house if they didn’t absolutely have too. The windows of the storefronts that line my walk were dark. Owners and employees, afraid to brave the roads that were surely frozen.

            Ambulance sirens echoed between the buildings, on its way to the hospital. It’d been like that all night. Snowy nights always meant busy nights in the emergency room. Black ice and slippery sidewalks spelt danger to anyone who dared to leave the comfort of their houses.

It was rapid fire patients all night and the waiting room was still overflowing when I left. Those waiting kept getting pushed to the back of the line when emergent patients came in. Although most of those waiting were people with tummy aches and sprained ankles. Nothing life threatening. 

I watched a man across the street slip on the ice. It was like he was breakdancing but in one spot and not very well. He hit the ground hard. No one else was around to see him fall. I scurried across the street, almost slipping on some ice myself.

“Are you all right, sir?” I asked as I got closer.

“Oh, yes. I’m fine. Just a little embarrassed.” He sat up and collected himself.

“Are you sure? That was quite a fall.” I picked up his umbrella from where it had landed a few feet away from him.

            “Yes. I'm fine. It’s just a bit slippery.” He tried to get up, his feet sliding out from under him.

“Let me give you a hand.” I offered a hand for him to grab onto, bracing my feet on the cement sidewalk.

“No that’s quite all right, I’ve got it,” he slipped again. Everything around him was ice.

“It’s really no trouble, you seem to have landed directly in the middle of an ice patch.” It was the iciest place I could see on this sidewalk.

“No, I’m fine. I don’t need yourhelp.” I didn’t like the way he said your. So accusatory.

“It’s really no trouble sir,” I stuck my hand out farther. There was no way he was getting up on his own. Not with his size or his location.

“No, I’m fine. You can continue on your way.” He sounded stern. He slipped again, landing on his back.

“Last chance for some help.” I tried again. Standing over him. Some people are just so stubborn.

“No.” He didn’t move from where he was lying. “Thank you, Ma’am, but I don’t need help from anyone likeyou.” There it is. Sometimes it surprises me, the way people reveal themselves to you. He wouldn’t even let me help him up.

I set his umbrella down next to him. “Suit yourself. I hope I don’t see you here when I’m on my way to lunch.” I walked away.

Some people are just insufferable. People have requested to have another doctor before. I’ve had people whisper slurs in my ear on the subway. People don’t take you seriously when you walk into an expensive store or they’ll follow you from a few feet away and try and make it look like they’re not watching your every move to make sure you don’t slip something in your pocket. 

I let the rage inside me warm my bones. He can get his warmth in hell. 

I barely registered the rest of my walk home. The three blocks were a blur as I entered the lobby of my apartment building.

The elevator was broken. Again. I dragged my tired soggy feet up six flights of stairs and down the hall. I dug through my purse for my key and wiggled it in the lock until it popped. I had to remember to call the super to come and fix that. Wendy always says she’ll do it but she’s hardly ever home during the day.

I slipped off my sneakers and my wet socks by the door. The air in the apartment was only slightly warmer than the air outside. The damp hems of my scrub pants were icy on my ankles. I turned on the coffee maker so Wendy could grab a cup before she left. It was going to take her a while to get to work with all this snow. 

I opened the curtains in the living room to let in some light. I do love the look of the snow-covered streets before everything turns grey with the city grime. Snow was still falling in big fluffy flakes and a blanket of exhaustion fell over me as I watched them float to the ground. Drifting lazily, unaware of the stress and the mayhem they’ll cause in this city of insufferable people.