The day started out fine. The kitty boys begged me to play videos for cats, and they were exceptionally good kitties while the videos played.
Good fun for the kitty boys! And they were nice to each other while watching the videos.
The day before I’d called the Good Samaritan office to let them know I needed to have the snow cleared so I could get to dialysis Wednesday, and that it needed to be done by at least 10 o’clock so I had adequate time to make the 11 o’clock start time. That, I figured, would give me extra time in case of getting stuck or other snow related issues.
By 10 o’clock Wednesday, no one had come to clear the snow. I WAS PISSED!
Here’s what the passenger side looked like. The snow was up to just about halfway to my knees.
Note that I park in a handicap parking spot. The Good Samaritan runs the apartment complex I live in, and they are responsible for clearing snow. Theoretically, they will clear snow first for people like me who have medical issues and have to make appointments. Dialysis isn’t optional!
I managed to get in the car. Gary walked down to the office to remind them in person I had asked for snow to be cleared the day before. Then a couple of maintenance people came over to help clear some of the snow around and behind my car off, but the main snow removal had to wait till the snow plow arrived from Hemingford, 19 miles away!
I tried to back up and got stuck. Gary and the maintenance people got me unstuck, and I drove down the lane and turned west on East 6th Street.
At the intersection of East 6th and Flack Avenue, I saw a pickup truck and a Bobcat blocking the intersection. There was a police car with lights flashing. It looked like an accident, but it might have been people clearing the snow at the intersection. Regardless, I couldn’t pass through the intersection to head north to the hospital. (Yes, I drew on my US Army vocabulary again to express feelings about that!)
I backed up to a turn off to the Good Samaritan parking lot, and headed east to what looked like the best way to get to 4th Street, which would take me to Flack, then the long way around to the hospital by 3rd Street, then Box Butte Avenue, two snow lanes that were cleared. Boyd Street looked impassable, so I turned down Lane 4, which had a path down it, thanks to a pickup.
Yes, I was thoroughly wet, mad, and running out of time to get to dialysis.
The final trial: I waded through drifts up to my knees to get back to Lane 2 to try to run down a ride and to leave my keys with Gary and Donna so Gary could park my car in my spot after the snow was cleared and the car was unstuck.
I got thoroughly wet below the knees, and barely had the strength to make the full trek. Leroy, one of the maintenance guys, had to come to me for the final stretch to knock down a path for me to walk. I still barely made it. Yes, I cussed like a Sergeant Major all the way. Cleared my lungs, I tell you!
Donna called to find a ride for me. She eventually got the Handibus lined up, and I got to dialysis just slightly later than usual. (The Handibus is a city-run service used mostly by non-drivers, elderly, or handicapped people. You can get door-to-door service at a dollar per ride.)
Did I mention Gary and Donna are the neighbors who took care of the kitty boys for the two months and 10 days I was hospitalized, then in rehabilitation in 2016? Very good people! They helped turn my disastrous snow crisis into a successful trip to the hospital for dialysis.