75 minutes working one-on-one with my ASL instructor and then 75
minutes in class. By the time class was over, I felt like I had
been hit by a truck. My head was exploding with too much
information. My back and neck were painfully stiff. My hands
were shaking and my bad elbow was screaming in pain. I just
wanted to go home.
My interpreter walked me to the elevator as always. Yes, this
is, in part, another elevator story. We pressed the button but
the elevator didn't come. We waited and waited but no elevator
Okay, we were on the third floor. I'm not great on steps but I
can manage. We finally headed down the stairs. I learned there
are 22 steps per floor in that building. That's just a random
fact you never really needed to know.
We got to the second floor. My interpreter decided to try the
elevator again. This time it came. It took us up to the third
floor, then back to the second floor where the doors opened and
no one got in. And then we finally reached the first floor.
I was actually happy to just sit on the bench and wait for the
bus. I needed some quiet time. The bus was a little late but
that was okay. I am a patient person.
The bus came and I got on. They took me on an unexpected sight
seeing tour of the area. Anyone who uses para-transit knows what
it's like. Some rides just seem to go on forever. I wonder
where the heck they took me because I only live ten minutes
away from campus.
We drove, picked up someone in a wheelchair, drove again, dropped
off someone in a wheelchair and then drove some more. What I
didn't know was that we actually went past my house three times
before they finally let me off the bus.
I was already late and my mother was beginning to worry. so she
was watching for the bus. She saw it go by the house, slow down
in front of the neighbor's home and then drive off again. My
dad had to call the transportation service and get them to
contact the driver and tell her to come back. That took awhile.
In the meantime, we drove and drove. Where we stopped, nobody
The driver came back to my street and passed the house
again. This time she stopped at the neighbor's house and
started to help me off the bus. My mother flashed the
lights on the house to get her attention and bring me to the
right place. The driver got back on the bus, drove just a
tiny bit, then stopped and let me off for real. It sure was
good to get home.