SATURDAY STORY - JANUARY 7, 2023

 SATURDAY, JANUARY 7, 2023 - STORY

On Saturdays, I write fiction.

*****

I love my job as an anesthesiologist at St. David’s Hospital in Austin.  What I don’t like is the commute. I live in Georgetown.  It is about 26 miles from my apartment to the hospital.  Fortunately, I have a reserved parking spot, unfortunately, my 26-mile commute has taken up to one hour.  The best route is on Interstate 35.  There might be other roads - like A. C. Grimes - but the speed limit is 35 and there are a lot of cross streets and stop signals.  The interstate is three lanes all the way with a speed limit of 65 miles per hour.  On the best day, I can make the drive in 22 minutes.  (Okay, so I might drive close to 70 miles per hour on a couple of stretches of the road - on a good day).

Today was not a good day.  I caught the morning traffic report that there had been an accident at Parmer and I-35, plus the regular slow down in Round Rock about exits 57 to 52.  

I generally listen to an audiobook in the car (today was Kristin Hannah’s “The Four Winds” - a really powerful novel).  I generally have my WAZE GPS on set for the hospital.  

About 1431/University Avenue in Round Rock, I was doing well.  The traffic wasn’t too bad yet.  I was passing Rudy’s Barbeque about two miles south of the 1431 / University avenue interchange and checked out my rearview mirror.  Back at that interchange there seemed to be a red car weaving in and out of traffic.  I was in the middle lane - where I generally drove.  

I thought to myself, “Just what I need - a hot shot driver thinking he is in the Indy 500 race.  By the Old Settler’s interchange, traffic was starting to slow down.  I checked my mirror and that red car was now about half a mile behind me.  By the Palm Valley/Highway 79 exit, he was about four cars behind me.  

By the 620/Round Rock Avenue Exit, the red car was right behind me.  I thought he was going to run up my tailpipe, but at the last second, he shot left into a gap that seemed like it wasn’t quite large enough for him, but somehow he made it. 

Down to the toll road 45 exit, the red car had moved from the left lane to the middle lane, and then to the right lane, and back to the middle lane.  I could see tail lights flicker as he switched lanes and cut in front of people.  I was still in the middle lane, and he was only two cars ahead of me.

I laughed to myself - all that lane switching and what had it benefited him?  Two cars in front of me.

He moved to the left lane and got a honk from the driver he cut in front of him.  But now with the cars merging off 45 going south into Austin, cars in the right lane were moving into the middle lane and the cars coming in were in the right lane - and we slowed almost to a stop. Somehow, the middle lane was moving just a little faster than the left or right lane, and soon I was even again.  

I snuck a look at the car and driver.  It was a Nissan Altima - a nice mid-sized car, but definitely not a “hot car”.  The driver also surprised me, it was a mostly bald guy - maybe in his 50s.  The car didn’t seem to have any scratches or dents.  Cars that cut in and out like that would probably have a few scratches.  

The driver hovered over the steering wheel and I could see him check his mirrors to find a faster lane and where he could cut back into the center lane.  He seems to be in a hurry and I imagined steam coming off that bald head - from the frustration of being caught in traffic. 

There just wasn’t a spot for him to cut in at that time. My lane was moving and after a minute he cut back into the middle lane two cars behind me.  

I laughed again.  Poetic justice.  Cutting in and out had actually lost him about four car lengths.  

There was a semi-truck in front of me, so I slowed down, and checked my mirror.  The red car was now in the right lane and just one car behind me in that other lane.  He was gaining and as he pulled even with me, just enough room opened between the truck and me, and he zipped into the spot ahead of me.  What a maniac.  He was speeding up, and slamming on his brakes - and endangering all of us on the road.  

Then zip - into the left lane and moved even with the front of the truck and then must have cut in front of the truck.  I could hear a horn blaring.  Maybe it was the truck driver getting upset with the jerk.

The truck pulled into the left lane, but a pickup truck pulled in in front of me.  I could see the red car now three cars ahead of me.  

Traffic spread out as we got to the 183 intersection and he was several car lengths ahead.  But, with the cars coming from Leander, Cedar Park and Northwest Austin merging in, just past the 183 intersection red lights were shining from brakes being pressed.  

I had my own driving to worry about and like the tortoise in the old Aesop fable about the tortoise and the hare, slow and steady wins the race.  I took the 236A exit for Dean Keeton Road (and St. David’s Hospital) which was downhill from the interstate - and saw the red car about five cars ahead of me waiting for the light to turn green.  

The red car whipped over on the shoulder to pass the car in front of him.  Then he whipped a left turn in front of traffic and into the St. David’s parking garage.  

I saw the driver park in a handicapped spot and run - really run to the entrance.  Wow - he was in a hurry.  

I parked my car and walked to the third floor using the air bridge.  I said, “Good Morning” to the staff as I went to my cubicle in the third-floor anesthesiology room.  Checking my computer, I saw I had my normal load of patients to help.  As I was ready to change into my scrubs, a new patient popped up on my screen, Loretta Martin.  It was in red and I was to see her in six minutes.  Wow - this must be some kind of emergency procedure.

I changed into my scrubs quickly and went to the room.  A woman had arrived about 15 minutes ago, airlifted from Jarrel. She was going for emergency surgery to save her life.  She was unconscious so I quickly inserted my line into her IV port, and almost before I was done checking the crew was ready to whisk her off to an operating theater.  As an anesthesiologist, I sat in the operating room checking her vital signs for any abnormal readings.  

The emergency operation took about three hours.  My other assignments were traded off so I could stay on this surgery.  Broken ribs, punctured lung, and aorta aneurysms - this definitely was a life-or-death situation.  

*****

The rest of my day was fairly routine.  But, emergency anesthesiology was on my mind.  When I had a short break at about 4 p.m.  I went to check on the emergency case.  The patient was still sedated, and the vital signs were high but under control.

But, the major surprise for me was the man sitting in the corner of the room.  He looked like he had been drinking all night with bloodshot eyes and rumpled clothing.  I recognized him as the driver of the red  Nissan Altima that had been weaving in and out on I-35 that morning.  I told him I was the anesthesiologist, and he, in a stupor, said he was Nathan Martin and that this was his wife.  

*****

Epilogue

Later I heard the story. Loretta Martin had been t-boned by a driver who supposedly was strung out on drugs as she went to her position as superintendent of the Jarrel schools. Nathan had been having his breakfast when he got the phone call that she was being airlifted to St. Davids in Austin.  That phone call said (correctly) that she was on life support.  Nathan and Loretta loved each other and he had to be with his wife - so was driving crazy to get to her before she died.

In this case, it almost worked out okay.  Loretta’s surgery was successful, and recovery and physical therapy took months, but eventually, she returned as superintendent of Jarrell schools. 

**

And, I too, learned a lesson.  When I see somebody weaving in and out on the highway, I say a prayer for the driver for his or her family.  

It might be that the driver (like Nathan) wants to see his or her spouse before death.  It might be a devoted child being told that Mom was on her last breath and the driver is trying to get to the hospital to say “goodbye” to Mom.  It might be a husband being told that his wife is in labor, and he needs to be at the hospital for the delivery.

Or, it could be that the driver is just being a jerk.  I’ve decided if that’s the case, I still need to pray for the driver and his or her family.

*****

Karen adds - don’t judge until you understand, and even then, don’t judge.

LOVE WINS

LOVE TRANSFORMS

KAREN ANNE WHITE, ©, JANUARY 7, 2023