As Misty's World Turns


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July 1, 2002

My brother sent me the following story today. I think it says more than I could possibly add tonight.

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away.

But, I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.

So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

"It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated".

"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.

When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".

I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

"I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now."

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

"How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse. "Nothing," I said.

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers," I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

"You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk.

What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware - beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

People may not remember exactly what you did, or what you said, but they will always remember how you made them feel.

I thought this was such a heart warming story, that it should be passed around for everyone to read. Wouldn't it be a wonderful world if everyone was like that cab driver? It's really not that difficult...all we have to do is treat people like we'd want to be treated in return. Right? Why not give it a try, what have you got to lose?

July 9, 2002

For the past month I've been suffering with 2 bad teeth, one in front, and one in back...one on either side of my mouth. Both of the teeth bothering me have exposed nerves, and have been very painful. Sleeping through the night has been a dream, and my days have consisted of popping pain pills every 4 hours. An extraction costs $225, where a root canal costs $1500. Needless to say, the two teeth that are bothering me will have to be extracted. Two weeks ago I called for an appointment to have one of the teeth extracted. The soonest I could get in was July 18th.

This morning I woke up to find half of my face swollen twice its size. I called the dentist, but I was told I couldn't get in before my appointment on the 18th. Next I called my family doctor, but he was on vacation. His nurse said she'd check with the doctor on call and get back to me. An hour later I called her back to see what progress she had made. She said the doctor on call would not see me, and I'd have to wait till my family doctor got back from his vacation. I even made an appeal to my Mom's family doctor, but since I would be a new customer they couldn't see me today either. With my face swollen, and my eye rapidly closing due to the swelling, I didn't think I had much choice but to go to the emergency room.

I wasn't sure which hospital to go to, so I picked the one closest to our house. I explained how the swelling had occured to the man at the front desk, and asked to see a doctor for some antibiotics. Everyone there was very nice until I got to the nurse. She came into the examining room and said..."so you have a tooth ache." I said, "yes, but that's not why I'm here. As you can see, half of my face is swollen." Then she asked me how my face had become swollen to begin with. I explained to her that I had a hole in my front tooth, exposing the nerve, at this time my tooth was also bleeding. I also explained that I'd been waiting for 2 weeks to have this tooth extracted, and that I had another week before it would come out. She looked at the tooth, then she said, "how come you never had this fixed?" I said that I lived on disability, recieving $500 a month to pay for most of my expences. Therefore I had been attempting to save money to have my dental work completed.

When the doctor came in to see me I explained it all to him. He was much more understanding and said he knew how expensive dental care was when you're like me, and have no dental insurance. He gave me a shot of penicillin and some pain pills, and 3 hours later I was on my way home. As I was driving the six blocks home I thought to myself, what a lousy excuse for medical care this country has. Out of three doctors no one would see me, making me resort to using a hospital emergency room for something a family doctor could have fixed. No wonder the emergency rooms are over loaded. Of the people I waited with in the hosptial, only one person was truly in need of the emergency room. The others, probably like me, came because they had no other way of seeing a doctor.

I really dread getting the bill for this afternoon. I certainly hadn't budgeted for a trip to the emergency room this month. I also hadn't budgeted to have both of my teeth extracted this month either, but I see no other way around it now. When I'd made the appointment I was only having trouble with my back tooth. It wasn't until after I'd made the appointment that the front tooth began to bother me. What I'd give to be able to get out and get a job. My money situation gets more and more depressing as time goes on. It seems like every month I'm faced with one more bill I can't afford, forcing me to give up one more thing to make ends meet. Last month I was going to have to give up my supplimental health insurance to pay for new tires on the car. But my oldest brother came to my rescue by getting them for me. I still need to pay him back, but he says there is no rush. I don't know what I'd do without the emotional AND financial support of my family.

July 19, 2002

Well, yesterday was my big day at the oral surgeon's office. (Since dentists don't extract teeth here, I had to go to an oral surgeon.) Somehow I didn't remember him being such a pain in the ass when he took my wisdom tooth out last year. Yesterday he started right in on me the minute I sat down in the chair. "Was my dentist going to replace the front tooth I was having removed?" he asked. I said, "I can't afford a dentist, and I certainly can't afford to replace the tooth." (Geez, if I had dental insurance, I'd never have the damn thing pulled to begin with. I'd have root canal performed!) Then he looks at the back tooth and says, "You know, if you'd done root canal on this tooth last year you could have saved it." (No shit sherlock!) I said, "yes I'm aware of that...were you been listening when I told you I have NO INSURANCE and live on disability?!"

I spent most of the day popping pain pills and sleeping when I could. All I had to eat yesterday was a cup of chocolate pudding around 7 pm. Today I ate a banana for breakfast, and some chicken soup for lunch. Since I have 2 gaping holes, one each side of my mouth, eating is a little harder than I had expected. What I'd really missed yesterday were my cigarettes. But I was a good girl and didn't have a smoke until this morning, (24 hours after the extraction). I still feel like I've been hit by a truck and left for dead. But at least the soreness is starting to go away now.

July 24, 2002

They say that was doesn't kill us makes us stronger. Sometimes I wonder just how far I have to be tested. The last month has been one thing to handle after another. Today it seemed like I could go no farther....but I did. For the past few months I've been hearing scratching noices, and the sounds of feet in the attic. In this house, the attic only covers the rooms on my side of the house. The computer room, my bathroom, and my bedroom. I'd mentioned the noises to the exterminator a few months back, and he set out some traps. But nothing happened.

This afternoon, after the cleaning lady got finished with the house, she and I went to the store. I'd taken the phone number to the exterminator with me, to call while I was away from the house. My Mother is terrified of mice, and I didn't want her to know there was a VERY good chance we had a rat...or more...in the attic. I explained my problem to the woman on the phone, and she set up an appointment for tomorrow to have someone bait the attic.

I had hoped I could keep this all a big secret from my Mom, but I was going to find out later that wasn't going to be possible. When Cheryl and I got in the car, I smelled something horrible. I said to her..."geez that garbage smells horrible." She said, "it's not the garbage, I just tossed some stuff out and I didn't smell a thing." I didn't give it much thought until we got in the car at the store. If possible, the car smelled even worse. I happened to look in the back seat, and that's when I noticed droppings all over the floor.

My first impulse was to run like hell, but I knew I had to look. She saw the droppings too. We both of us gingerly searched the car. I wasn't sure if I was happy or not when our search turned up nothing. I decided that maybe the smell was just the droppings, so we went to the car wash and had it thoroughly cleaned, and scented! However, when I got in the car a few hours later to go out to dinner it smelled just as bad. On the way home from dinner I thought I heard something in the AC vents. I couldn't wait to get out of that car!

I talked to my brother Mark when we got home and told him my problem. He said..."I hate to say this, but you've got to make an insurance claim on the car. If it still smells that bad, you've got something dead in it, and you'll have to take it to a dealership to see if they can find it." This isn't the first time I've had a dead rodent in my car.....I sure as hell was hoping it would never happen again. The first time this happened to me it took me forever to find the dead mice. Once we did find them, the car was too far gone to ever remove the stench...and I had to trade it in....telling the dealer I'd hit a skunk getting to the car lot. (lol)

Tonight Mark tells me that it's almost certain I'll never get the smell out of the car, and that it will probably be totaled. My heart sank when he said this. I don't have the money for car payments, hell, I don't even have the money for the deductible to have someone try to remove whatever has died. The worst part though was when he said to me, "you know, you're going to have to tell Mom the whole story. There's no getting around it now the car is ruined."

Surprisingly enough, she took it quite well...even the part about possibly totaling the car. So now I sit and wait to see what tomorrow brings. Thankfully my brother works for State Farm, and he's agreed to make some calls for me tomorrow to see what can be done. I'm petrified to get back in that thing, and I'm even thinking of calling AAA to have it towed the 10 miles to the dealership. My first hope is the exterminator can rid the attic of whatever is living up there, my second hope, is a miracle will occur and my car will be fine.

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