On the Road

 I haven’t written for a while but this past week has been an especially rewarding experience and it has made me want to keep some of those experiences in my story of being a medical transport driver.  This job is full of interesting people, smells, language (not always appropriate language), a few pets, and so many different personalities.  It doesn’t take but a moment to know if I have a passenger who wants to visit along the way or one who doesn’t want any conversation at all.  I can accommodate either one but the ones I love having in my car and care, are those that enjoy a short visit as they would a friend, are my favorites.  

I drove a couple who spoke Arabic and I mentioned that my grandson is taking a language class at BYU to learn Arabic.  She offered to tutor him if he ever needed help.  Another shared with me her experience of being homeless and while living on the street (she was in her late 70’s) a dog walked up to her and never left her side.  I transported a middle aged man to the Veterans hospital and he shared his experience as a black man in the 70’s when his well-known and respected college football coach got up and told them that if any of “you n….” (Sorry, I hate the word and won’t repeat it) ever go around a white girl you will be packed up, and on a plane back where you came from.  My passenger took exception to the use of the word and told the coach that he didn’t want to hear it ever again.  He said when he got back to his dorm room that the college had sent someone in to pack up his room and he was given a plane ticket back home.  That ended his college career until years later after he served in the military and was able to go back to school on the GI bill.  A young man who especially touched my heart was about 25 years old.  He questioned me on why I moved back to Arizona from California and I told him about Grandpa’s Alzheimer’s disease and that he had passed away.  He then told me that he had been married to his high school sweetheart and she died last year.  His pain was evident as he spoke of the grief that he felt, and is still feeling.  Fortunately, the trip was to Phoenix and we had a good deal of time to talk.  I explained that he had every right to grieve and that eventually the pain would lessen and the memories of the happy times they had together will become his treasured memories to deal with his loss.  I was touched when we got to the destination and as he got out of the car  he thanked me for listening to him and for what I had said.  The last of my stories involved a passenger who came out of the doctor’s office using a walker.  She is permanently bent over and had a painful time getting into the car.  After she was settled, I put the walker in the back of the car and began the trip that was 14 miles away.  About three minutes into the ride, she asked if I anything she could throw up in.  Fortunately, I keep a small ice chest with water in the car for the people since the summers here are so intense.  I hurriedly emptied out the chest and handed it back to her (I am on the freeway during this whole process).  She began to throw up for quite a while but it was mostly drive heaves.  Once that was over, I passed back a handful of napkins and a bottle of water and she cleaned up and took some sips of water I gave her.  She kept apologizing over and over.  I told her that she didn’t need to apologize and I’m glad she was feeling better.  As she was heaving in the backseat, I thought how grateful I was that she got into my car so that I could help her.  I like to think that I was a tender mercy for her just as she was to me.