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I have an eye appointment   -   Weebly.com                                    

A Day in the Life
by  Marsha Michaels

​Covid is raging, but I have an eye appointment that I must be seen for and have waited months for.
 
The night before I call for a Ramp Cab since my mode of transportation is a disability scooter. My appointment is for three p.m. I only need the cab to return me home. I first scoot from my home to West Portal to do errands. Once there, I will take the MUNI to Civic Center, scoot across Market and up to the seven-hundred block of Van Ness.
 
I’m not a usual MUNI rider as BART has always been my normal transit. I do know that, being on the scooter, I have to be in the first car, so I’m waiting at the front of the platform.
 
I picked up a turkey slider at our wonderful West Portal bakery to eat before my appointment, once I reach my destination.
 
Within ten minutes, I get on the MUNI and double check with the driver that he stops at Civic Center.
 
“Yes, we stop there,” he informs me. I’m comfortable and as the stations go by, I notice we pass a Van Ness stop.
 
Should I get off? No, I stick with my plan.
 
The very next stop is the Civic Center and I exit and look to find the elevator. It’s down a long dark corridor and I travel down. Halfway there, there’s an inlet where I see a small black man, naked from his waist down and a tall white man.
 
I figure they were either having sex or shooting up or most likely both. They see me pass and when I reach the elevator there’s a sign that says “OUT OF ORDER.” There is no turn-around area as the train track is on my left and a wall is on my right. Therefore, I must back up the entire corridor, again passing the men. I now have a pretty good look at them and realize they are both young.
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​I’m now in the main area of the station when I realize I need to go back to Van Ness and that’s across the aisle. I see a train pull in but it’s only a two car MUNI, so I put my scooter on its fastest mode and just as I approach, the train pulls out.
 
Frustrated, I see the two men again. The small man has his pants down around his ankles. I yell to him to pull up his pants.
 
Suddenly, a paratransit worker approaches me and says there will be another train in two minutes.
 
Positioned correctly now, I get on but not with the normal ease as the clipper post is in my way, so I crash a few times before entering.
 
Van Ness is a decent stop but has two elevators I must take to get on the street. Obviously, architects/builders haven’t a clue to what it takes to manipulate when one is disabled. The elevator doors close quickly, especially when others are exiting, and I need to wait for the elevator to go back up, then down again, and then I finally get in.
 
I’m somewhat rattled, but I see I’m on Market and Van Ness and just need to scoot seven blocks. I’m good with time so as I approach the Opera Plaza, I pull over to have my slider before I go into the Eye Clinic. Grateful it’s sunny, I pull out my lunch but it falls to the ground. Luckily, a man sees what’s happened and picks it up for me and throws it in the garbage.
 
By now I’m thinking this is not one of my better days and head into Peet’s and decide on an almond croissant, which is not a norm as walking off calories is a no-go. But a treat is necessary!
 
Still having time to spare, I head into Books Inc. and look at staff favorites, where I pick up a couple of books and a desk calendar of wildflowers. I’m feeling calmer but am very concerned about the Ramp Cab showing. It will be dark early and the last thing I need is to have to scoot in the dark back home.
 
I head up to my appointment and I tell the staff I need to get out by four-ten as I have a cab coming. The young women have no understanding of the importance and give me a shrug.
 
My appointment is over, and all is well with my eyes, so I’m lucky I don’t have a set of genes that could lead to yet another issue to have to deal with.
 
I hurry out and cross Van Ness and realize my pickup address is in the middle of the block. Luckily, I am able to call my driver and he informs me it will be twenty-five minutes. We decide I would wait for him on the corner of Eddy.
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A bum starts harassing me in Spanish for money. I have no jewelry on and yet he doesn’t give up. Suddenly, my New York bravery kicks in, and I back up the scooter and start charging him as if I’m a tank. Luckily, he runs for his life!
 
My taxi arrives and I begin chatting with the driver about how the city has changed. We reminisce of when we were kids and how safe streets were.
 
Growing up in Manhattan, I was a constant subway rider with no incidents, but I was also among the walking and wonder how it is today for the disabled?
 
He asks if I have children? I do not as I had other plans. He tells me that he has a thirty-six-year-old son with brain cancer.
 
“He goes into remission and then it comes back worse.”
 
If anything was going to put my day of hell into perspective, hearing this father share how every day is a nightmare of worry, would.
 
We exchange numbers and I wish him the best for his family with a nice big tip.
 
Once home I change, clean up and sit down while I review the ups and downs of the day. I pour myself a hefty glass of red wine, and then another!! 
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​​Marsha Michaels has been a student at OLLI at SF State since 2009. Her first writing class was with Barbara Rose Brooker. Barbara helped Marsha self-publish a memoir called, Pulling At Straws. She also took a class with Dave Casuto, and they developed a website, where many of Marsha’s stories and recipes can be found. Marsha has been published in previous issues of Vistas & Byways. Marsha takes writing classes and other diversified subjects at OLLI at SF State. She finally feels that she’s been educated where she missed out in her youth. Marsha thanks OLLI at SF State for the enormous difference it has made in her life.
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Vistas & Byways Review is the semiannual journal of fiction, nonfiction and poetry by members of Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (OLLI) at San Francisco State University​.​
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