Stuck

Yesterday I was to have an early AM appointment with Doctor Song, my otolaryngologist (throat doc).

Patients with NF2 may develop voice, swallowing, and breathing impairment due to vocal fold paralysis (VFP). This typically results from compression of the vagus nerve by tumors at the cerebellopontine angle (CPA) or jugular foramen, or nerve injury during tumor resection. (source)

I was supposed to see him a couple weeks ago but had become hopelessly stuck in tunnel traffic and needed to reschedule. Waddyaknow, similar thing happened yesterday. This time though, Ten and I never even made it out of our little town. The road leading to the highway onramp was horrifically backed up and NOT moving. Okay, maybe it was but just a teeny tiny bit. Even so, snails and turtles were  zooming past us. Me with my rollator and wonk-ass strength could have walked from Wollaston Beach to 93N faster.

I felt like we’d left enough time for the 14 mile commute (90 minutes) but, as we stagnantly sat there, it became clear that, nope-a-reeno, an hour and a half was not enough. We, once again, rescheduled, turned around and went home. Jesus fucking Christ, getting into town should NOT be such a gridlockian horror show.

Next time, I’m going to take a chance that my strength has improved enough to ride the T. Luckily yesterday's appointment was just an annual checkup—I’m not currently having trouble swallowing, speaking or breathing.

A sip of wine, a cigarette
And then it’s time to go.
I tidied up the kitchenette;
I tuned the old banjo.
I’m wanted at the traffic-jam.
They’re saving me a seat.
~ Leonard Cohen