Saturday, February 4, 2012

The Trip Part 2 (January 24, 2008)

The year in review originally posted on January 27, 2009

This was part two, I skipped it by accident :(

January 24, 2008 (Part Two)

Current mood: cold

The small, under detailed map I had the highways I was on (Routes 10 & 15) and Gouin Ouest where I was going. I knew the hospital was on Rue de Salaberry and the directions I had to there, seemed to be exactly where Iwas heading. The traffic on this highway was ungawdly. It made 5:00 Boston traffic pace look like the Indy 500. Dusk was setting in early, as there was
the typical high, thin cloud cover over the area with a few breaks of the setting orange sun.

Stuck in traffic and it was getting dimmer, I was really starting to get panicky as I was supposed to be at the residence for dinner and traffic isn't moving.. Luckily the Opie & Anthony replay was due to start on XM. Friendly, familiar voices were exactly what I needed at this point. I
can't recall a time I was ever happier to hear a replay in my life.

I passed an exit for Rue de Salaberry (bad mistake) and knew that I could turn back and find the hospital if needed. I found the road that my map showed would take me to Gouin Ouest. More traffic, only this time in the city itself. I went further than I expected (Montreal's a huge city!)
and started getting nervous. I started looking for signs. Panic struck deeper.

The signs were all in Spanish. Being familiar with Manchester, Nashua, Boston & New York City, I knew these areas could have a tendency to be a bit rougher. Great, I took myself off the highway, into a potentially bad area, it's getting dimmer and I have no clue where I'm supposed to be.
After a few blocks it finally dawns on me. The signs aren't in Spanish, they're in FRENCH, you idiot!

Eventually the road did get me to Gouin Ouest, after going under the highway I had just been on a few minutes ago. I just found a long way to get there. Left or right? Let's go left. Wrong answer. I drove and drove and drove. One long road. No sign of the residence. I must say I saw some
extravagant houses right on the river. Too rich for my blood. I finally hit desperation
and prayed that Michelle was still at work. She was due to arrive on Saturday and may have the address. Yes, she did. I was heading way in the wrong direction and had to turn back. It was now totally dark outside.

I turn back and now with the address and now with the address, I know side to look on. I drove past the address, so I turned at the corner. Hmmmmmm, how did I miss it. I found a good size drive way to turn around in. A place that looked like one the houses I saw earlier or even a high end lawyers office.

Drove back down Gouin Ouest, and damn it, I went by the residence again. Where is this place? I turned at the next corner, my nerves on edge as I get an untimely text message. It's my friend Melinda wishing me the best. I a left at the next corner and see if I can find signs for the residence via the back. Nope. I take another left and park across the street from the driveway I had turned around in. I reply to Melinda and figured then I'd walk to find the residence. Let them know I've arrived and find out where to park.

I look to my left before opening my driver's side door and what's right across the street from me? The hospital. I was parked on Rue de Salaberry. Awesome stroke of luck. They'll know where I should go. I go and ask how to get to the residence. They inform me it's right next door. The
driveway I had turned around in was shared by the hospital, Dr Brassard's office, and
the residence. Talk about taking the long way around!

I check in at Dr Brassard's office and find I'm good to park in that same lot for the two weeks.
I go inside the residence and I'm welcome by Nurse Brigitte. She sends one of the staff to carry in my things. It was Doreen, a lady five or six years older than I, whom in the later weeks I'd spend a lot of time chatting with while she worked. But here this poor lady came out to my car to carry
in my belongings. All of them. I was totally healthy at this point and had too much stuff with me. She insisted on carrying everything in and me nothing, as they insist upon 'first class treatment'. But I must admit I felt guilty as watching her carry everything, which reminded me of the scene in Caddyshack where the little kid is trying to carry the oversized golf bag.

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