Stories compel me to do strange things. When I read Alexandr Solzhenitsyn’s disturbingly descriptive novel in college, I went on a heat fast. The book follows the protagonist through a single day in a Siberian internment camp during the winter. It’s cold. You feel cold when you read the book even if you’re sitting in a sauna, basking on a beach, anywhere you might be. The characters complete their routines with remarkable efficiency despite the cold. There are vivid descriptions of events and the laborer’s senses are simultaneously dulled and sharpened by the winter chill. Dulled because you start to loose feeling in the cold, but sharpened because there’s an intense focus brought on by the need to complete daily tasks in order to survive.
After finishing the book One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, I chose to keep my heat off for a month. Just in my bedroom, and just when I was alone. I wasn’t imposing this on anyone else, but I was interested to see what kind of focus I could develop if I wasn’t distracted by comfort. It was a strange experiment, but I was remarkably productive during that month. When Christians fast from something, the idea is that when you think of that thing, instead of indulging in whatever you’re accustomed to (usually food), you pray instead. I spent hours in the cold in October 2011; I spent hours in worship.
I thought about that experience a lot this week as I sat in the cold not by choice but because my heat went out on Saturday night. I wasn’t sure until Sunday afternoon when my radiators still weren’t working, so I called my landlord. He came and fiddled with the same knobs I had and told me that he’d call someone to fix it in the morning. I made it through the night thanks to the help of my kind neighbors who shared a space heater with me. I kept my tiny living room warm with the space heater Monday until the young man arrived to fix my boiler in the late morning. He spent an hour and a half working until he told me that my pump was broken, and he’d need to order a new one to be put in the next day. He shut the boiler off completely so I was now without radiator heat or hot water.
Tuesday morning went by the same as Monday as I waited for the replacement part to be installed. Late morning, the young man returned and replaced the pump at which point some other part broke. I couldn’t quite gather which one as my German is still rudimentary, but he explained to my landlady and I that he’d need to order a new one and since it was now past noon, it wouldn’t arrive until the next working day – at this point Thursday since Wednesday was a national holiday. My landlady was upset by this, but it seemed there was nothing the young man could do. He’d try to get it by the afternoon, but it wasn’t likely.
I left for therapy that afternoon, and when I returned, my landlady was with the young man and another repairman working hard to change parts in my boiler. I sat and watched as they fiddled around for another hour before getting my radiators and hot water to work effectively. Again, my German isn’t so good, but my landlady explained to me in simple terms that they’d just created a temporary fix so I could shower and sleep at home until they returned with a new part on Thursday morning.
Thursday morning, instead of the repair man, my landlady returned to tell me the repairman would be coming Friday morning at 8am. Some of you know that my medication schedule has to be adjusted for me to be presentable at 8am. I smiled and agreed to be ready to greet them the next morning, but I’d unfortunately planned my next two days around having to be at home Thursday and run errands Friday. It was inconvenient to say the least, but I can happily report that my heat has been working as it’s supposed to (I mean, at least I’m still warm) since 8:15 this morning. Bonus: the space heater I ordered on Amazon arrived today.
Through this ordeal, I reflected on my standard of living. I’m really blessed to have access to heat and warm water. They are considered standards here, and they are critical in my recovery. I need the warmth to help blood flow in my legs that they can’t get as well on their own any more. I need electricity, and sufficient nutrition, and physical therapy, and so many other things. I have so many of my needs met – surpassed even. I’m so grateful for how that helps me in my slow recovery process.
