I started taking a medical bus here at the Redwoods for periodic blood tests. My first time taking the bus was frightening because I had to stand with my walker on this little shelf that raises up to the level of the bus and I thought to myself: they don't know how much I weigh. How do they know I'll get up there?
Now, I do my own blood tests and phone in the results to a clinic. Because I'm not yet 100% successful doing it myself at home, I receive phone calls from the clinic.
A woman calls me from the blood testing office. She speaks through some sort of a machine that makes her sound like she'd been dead for more than a month. And she says in an outlandish and scary voice to check that I'm who she wants me to be.
It scares me so much to hear this voice from beyond that I hang up and do not write down the number I'm supposed to call back.
She'll have to call me again, next time preferably with her own voice. It's scary for people as old as I am; her voice is fraught with scary images.
When I was done needing to go by a long bus ride to the blood clinic, I said I'm through with this now and I'll investigate the other buses which will take me out to outings, shopping, lunch...
Today was my first step toward that intention, though ended up not working because the bus arrived with no lift. Next time will better because we'll let Art my favorite bus driver know that I need a lift. I know I can get up the steps and I just know I can't climb back down again and need the lift.