The Day Plays Out

I stood at the reception counter and paid my bill. There was nobody in front of me, noone waiting behind me. Just me and the receptionist in this normally very busy doctor's office. A doctor's office where differing doctors are present on differing days, space rented to spread their service area, bring more specialty services to our local area. It's a place I have become a frequent visitor recently. It almost feels natural to head there, and I no longer need to say my name when I check in. They know me. It feels kind of relaxing, in a situation which is far from stress-free.

So, I paid my bill, zipped my wallet into my backpack, and headed out the door slinging my backpack over my shoulder. I didn't know what my plan was. I had taken the bus to the doctor's office, knowing I could catch another bus home, or walk. With the snow falling down leaving my covered in wetness, a a bite whipping through the breeze, I looked at my clock. 30 minutes til the bus arrived. What could I do in 30 minutes time?

I headed to the dentist to get my paperwork stamped which the dentist forgot to stamp at our last visit. She came out with her mask and gloves on and I heard the whirring of her equipment in the background. My mind was blank, but I smiled and asked about her new twins, then asked her to take care of this little task. I was out the door in two minutes.

I went into the pharmacy and paid the bill I owed, not giving Kaeden enough money to pay for his meds last time. I still owed 5,96, and when I went in, the pharmacist immediately went in search of his tucked away copy of the bill. "Yeah, Kaeden's medicine costs have gone up," he told me. I thanked him for turning over his medication anyway in good faith.

25 minutes til the bus arrives I thought. 2 minutes to walk to the stop. 23 minutes to go. My mind was still swarming. I couldn't concentrate and just wanted to go home. I needed to go home.

I walked into the store and grabbed a pair of socks to send to my niece. Socks are easy, just stick them in an envelope, no extra postage. I like socks since moving to Europe. A perfect little Ï'm thinking of you"gift. I grabbed a couple cards on my way to the checkout, and noticed a big bag of lolly-pops which Jari has been begging me to buy. So, I did. I added my loot to my backpack. I no longer carry a purse, but my backpack is always on stand-by for those little purchases, a bottle of water, and a pack of cookies in case Jari is with me. He gets cranky when he's hungry.

I looked at the clock above the optician. 9:33. The time was wrong, the hour way off base, the minutes exactly on. I had 10 minutes to go. I decided I'd just have to wait longer for the bus. I didn't have enough time to do anything else, so I started the short walk in the falling snow. It was falling in huge flakes, wet but not sticking. My hair became wet and the droplets fell from my jacket. I stood at the busstop, feeling the cold, my mind still swarming, yet nearly blank.

The bus arrived and I put my ticket into the reader. It took off 80 cents for my 4 minute ride, and I considered for a moment I should have just walked home. There were 4 other passengers, all elderly, and they watched me as I passed and the bus jaunted on it's way. I took my seat, thinking it barely paid to sit down. Yet I did, and then glanced out the misty windows. We stopped to pick up another passenger. He climbed onto the bus using his cane, and as he limped towards a seat, my eyes misted over, just as the windows on the bus. He's handicapped, I thought. Life isn't easy for him. He can't walk.

And then my thoughts turned back to the doctor's office, to my visit to the neurologist and the nerve tests I had just had done. I'm handicapped too. My hand is not healing. I have nerve damage, and muscle damage, and instead of getting better, it's turned for the worse.

And the blur looking out the window was misted over, and I wasn't sure if it was from the warm air hitting the cold bus windows, or the tears suddenly streaking down my own cheeks.


V-Grrrl @ Compost Studios said...

I have days like this, where I hide from bad news in routine tasks and then suddenly find myself in tears when I least expect it.

And there is something about a bus, tram, train. That being among people, sharing a life and a journey but not a story. I always wondered about the stories behind the impassive faces around me. And somehow, for reasons I can't explain, I often cried while riding the Metro, surrounded by strangers who were touching me but not touching me.

I'm sorry you're facing disability. The accident was more than enough for someone to experience.

Tanya @ TeenAutism said...

Oh, Tera, this brought tears to my eyes too. I wish I had some words of wisdom - just wanted you to know that I care. Thinking of you, my friend, sending love.

Jen R. (emeraldsunshine.org) said...