The Enemy Has Us Cornered
1.27.10 5:50 a.m. EST
I’m surrounded. Backed into a corner with no defense but time. And it is only a matter of time, I’m sure of it. It’s an odd feeling, seeing your impending doom, knowing it’s just around the corner, waiting to creep in like an inky shadow stretching its tentacles at sundown. There’s almost a feeling of peace about it, of acceptance. It will come as no surprise.
Three of us have fallen. Two remain.
The nights have been sleepless, restless at best. Fear has settled among us as well, like that unwanted guest that doesn’t realize he was never invited.
It’s funny how when tensions are high and tolerance low that everything takes on a new light. Things that were once enjoyable are now a nuisance. Things peaceful are now troublesome. Comfort is a thing of dreams, when dreams are allowed to come.
Everyone is on a razor’s edge, sleep-deprived, fear-stricken . . . waiting for the dark foe to finish the rest of us off.
I try not to think about it, try not to imagine every twinge or pang as the work of the enemy. It could be nothing . . . it could be the beginning of the end.
Until it comes, until that black venom infiltrates my blood, I’ll live my life as I live it every day. And hope and pray that some way, by some miracle of God’s grace, I escape the clutches of this foul enemy.
Interpretation: last night our emetophobic daughter, Abby, realized her worst nightmare and came down with the stomach virus. All three girls have it now, leaving Jen and I to wait and grow anxious for the day, the hour, when we fall prey to our microscopic enemy.