Yesterday morning was cold and damp. (What else is new? This is fast becoming our new norm where weather is concerned.)
My bones were aching and I just did not want to get out of bed. I beat the bus to the station and was treated to a strong dose of alcohol and body odor – with a glaze of rain thrown in – courtesy of one of the passengers waiting for the bus going in the opposite direction. (Thank God for small favors.)
Pelted by rain, the acrid smell of the passenger still burning my nose, I lumbered onto the bus. It was warm for a change. This is good, I thought. My mood began to lift as I settled into my seat. It didn’t last long.
Instead of going across our detour bridge, which is essentially a straight shot, we had to divert even farther from our regular route to get ditched at the train station. Usually, I don’t mind the train. But, having this sprung on me, on a day when everybody and their brother was taking it, too, because of the closed bridge we normally use.
Sardines come to mind. We were jammed so tight just inside the door that standing up, I could barely get enough of a bar to grab a hold of. Like a Weeble, I wobbled – but I didn’t fall down.
At the second stop, a young black girl boarded. Hugely pregnant, she had poured herself into a bomber jacket. She did not look well. There were no seats. Oh, except the one where some bonehead had his bag sitting. On a train. Crowded to capacity. JERK! (Had I been able to reach him through the crowd, I so wanted to tell him this personally.)
Someone finally did give up their seat as the train lurched into motion. She half sat, half fell into it. Within seconds, she was writhing and moaning, clearly in the throes of a labor pain. She nearly fell into the floor. I heard someone ask, “Should we stop the train?” The response: “We’re beyond that. Get an ambulance.”
A woman standing next to her and just in front of the callbox began frantically pushing the button. The plan: have an ambulance dispatched to the next stop. My stop. I heard the woman introduce herself to the young girl and say she’d be there to help her. I assumed she was a nurse. (I later learned she actually works at a bank with one of my fellow bus passengers! I may even get to find out what the baby was.) Apparently, the young woman had been to the doctor the day before. Only 5 cm dilated, he sent her home. She decided that yesterday things were worse so she was taking the train to the hospital. Poor thing!
As I made my way back to the surface, I passed the young woman and her new entourage of women who were helping get her above where an ambulance would ultimately arrive. Man! There could have been an extra passenger on that train.
Once at work, my morning evolved into a cyberdrama leftover from Wednesday’s power outage. I was still unable to get email or use the Internet. I was among a dozen or so who had something on our computer docks that got fried. Luckily, I had a temporary connection until the part could be replaced late in the afternoon. Luckier still, it ended up being a productive day in spite of it all!
And, that gets us to Friday … YYYYIIIIPPPPPEEEEE! I groaned when the alarm went off but before I could even switch if off, one word drifted across my mind: Friday. *smiles*
6 comments:
What an eventful ride. I hope everything went well with her delivery!
Last night I had dreams about filthy shower curtains, I'm pretty sure your last post, 'Kiss my brass' scarred me even more then I already was. I am fairly convinced that I want to shred the downstairs shower curtain now. *shiver*
You had a exciting ride. TGIF
You deserved your TGIF more than anyone did! Wonder about the new arrival? Any clue on that?
Wow, that's exciting! In my ten years of dispatching, I've never gotten to deliver a baby over the phone. Almost, once, but the ambulance arrived before the baby did. Hopefully everything went well for that girl. My heart goes out to her.
I read this on Friday during my lunch hour and didn't have time to leave my comment but the image of that poor woman going into labor on the train has haunted me since. I can't get out of my head the fact that she had no greater resources or support system than to take a train, alone, to the hospital when she went into labor. And now she has an infant on her hands? How on earth is she going to manage? I know this happens all the time and to women with even fewer resources, I'm sure. But still, this story made me so, so sad. We have to do a better job of helping girls understand their options and the harsh realities of their choices.
Victoria -- It surely was. Sorry to scare you. I just have always had a thing about shower curtains. Definitely DON'T read "The Shining."
Karen -- Yup. You gotta love it!
sewwhat -- No. never any news on the baby. I keep asking my bus buddy but the girl never called her.
Jayne, Why -- Me, too. I hope she will be OK. Sad times we live in.
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