When needs must I can step out of my comfort zone without my camera too.
I’ve been doing a lot of hospital visiting this past week, it’s Ok, we’re heading towards a happy ending but it’s a long time coming and there are a few more hoops to jump through before the happy ending is in sight so I’ll fill you in when it arrives, in the meantime…
I’ve been doing a lot of hospital visiting…
I tend to be a morning visitor, although the hospital staff are in and out, I find it a lot less busy, I can slip in quietly with a newspaper delivery and pick up any little bits and pieces needed from the hospital shop downstairs, oh, and share any gossip I’ve managed to gather since the last visit, then slip away quietly again without any fuss.
Often I’ve managed to time my visits when someone else is driving there and back, but if not, then it’s a two bus journey. I’m not to good at changing from one transport to another during a journey which is probably why I’ve somehow trained myself not to sleep on a train, even when it’s quite safe to do so without ending up in Scotland. (not that there’s anything wrong with Scotland, it’s just not the best place to wake up if you were heading for Cardiff or Oxford). However, I have no trouble what so ever sleeping on a bus.
On my usual route to and from Oxford, the right combination of stops, starts and corners work easily as well as an alarm clock to wake me near the end of my journey, but on my visiting journey I have to get off the bus before Oxford centre and change to another to reach my destination.
It’s quite an easy ride really, now that I’ve done it a few times, but on my first time I was busing there alone after a morning asleep after working the night before.
I knew what the destination looked like, I managed to jump off at the right place and to board the right bus for the second half of the journey but then the bus turned off my Oxford route and into the unknown.
My safety net (I like to always work with a safety net) was the picture of my destination held in my head from memory but my memory is very much like a bucket of water. The contents are quite safely carried along with me, but the slightest of movement changes the surface picture.
Searching through the new pictures appearing through the bus window I tried desperately to recognise the one I needed, lots of windows… but we’re they grey or blue, trees? were there trees or not? and wait, bricks, I don’t remember bricks, definitely not red ones anyway, but what was holding the windows together?
Nope, it was gone, the picture slipped from the surface and I knew from experience that trying to retrieve it would be more than useless.
The bus driver’s reply of “you can’t miss it” wasn’t very reassuring when I asked him to tell me when to get off so I sat and waited, feeling a bit like a little silver ball bearing in one of those plastic maze games you get from a Christmas cracker, being rolled this way and that looking for an unseen destination, the only comfort being that the destination is in the maze with you and you can’t fall out of the game.
My phone… I had internet … what ever did I do before without it.
I asked Mr Google for the destination address, typed the postcode into the navigation app and as the bus weaved its way down unknown streets I watched the little arrow-head in the general direction of the reassuring red dot on the map.
The hospital loomed in front of us and I was there at the front of the bus waiting to get off, oh, and the bus driver was right, I couldn’t have missed it.