Liam, Karin and I rode out the storm in the relative safety of the PICU so I can’t tell you exactly how many hours we were without power like most people seem to be able to. I know that when Karin and I ventured out of the hospital to check on the house at 4pm on Sunday the neighborhood was dark. That night because of the caliber of nurses working overnight Karin and I came home together for the first time in 32 days. We came home to a dark house.
We don’t have candles in my house. We have oxygen tanks instead and never the twain shall meet. We have a flashlight. One flashlight.
Anyway, let’s just say that with Liam in the hospital all month we weren’t prepared at all for the aftermath of Irene. It hardly mattered though since we still were only using the house as a shelter for a night’s sleep. Without power the nights home were even more like camping.
Tonight at 10pm when I came home from the hospital the house was still dark. Now we were at 3 days without power and I was more than a little bit annoyed. Laundry needs to be done. I’d like my food to stay at an acceptable temperature for food safety and a hot shower wouldn’t hurt either.
About 20 minutes ago a National Grid truck pulled up to the utility pole in front of my house and two older gentlemen got right to work. Within 10 minutes and the swing of a large tool of some kind the neighborhood erupted in both light and cheers. People were screaming their thanks and things like “you’re my hero!” from blocks away as the two guys waved and called out their own thanks for the applause.
It was a pretty cool moment.
And now I have light. And hot water. and internet access, and cable TV. I’m just too exhausted to enjoy any of it.
I’m going to bed.
But not before directing your attention to this post by Julie over at Are You Going to Eat That?. One of the bright spots of riding out the storm on Sunday, was following Julie’s Twitter feed as she posted local information and updates throughout Irene’s path after her
own 22 hour radio silence due to power outages in North Carolina. It was incredible to watch, which made it all the more heart wrenching then to read monday morning’s tweets of worry as she struggled to make contact with a relative in a small town being destroyed by floods. Through the power of social media and the kindness of strangers Julie was able to lock down some info on the safety of her cousin. I’ll remember watching it all unfold every time I hear anyone question the validity of blogging, tweeting, and grudgingly, yes, even facebook.