I grabbed my money, got carefully out of the car and shut the door to go in the Deli for CB’s BLT…leaving my newly-bought $4.52 latte, my keys, and my purse locked in the Jeep. Fortunately, my phone was hanging on a lanyard around my neck (since last losing it and finding it tucked away in the bathroom drawer). I thought, “This can’t be happening today!”
For years, I have accommodated the increasing pain in my feet; as a patient with rheumatoid arthritis that’s what we do. As the toes dislocate, the bones drop and seek to drive through the soles of one’s feet. Calluses develop and pain increases – much like sharp pebbles in your shoes. Walking barefoot becomes near impossible. The question becomes ‘is it time for forefoot resection or will a trip to the podiatrist buy you more time?’ As this crosses my mind standing outside my car, I look longingly at my hot latte getting cold, and dial AARP Road Service, which is thankfully in my handy contacts.
Told my policy had expired 2 years ago, I began impatiently telling them they were mistaken and that I had called them 2 months ago after a similar mishap. More questions as I stand outside on those painful soles sitting in my beloved Crocs flip flops as the cold wind cuts across my roomy open-toed footwear. Then I am told if I would give my credit card, they could update my record. What part of ‘my purse is locked in the Jeep’ had they missed? At this point, it was suggested that I call my husband and get the number from him. I let go of the tears at this point, as my toes began to freeze and turn blue, telling them my husband was home with ALS and unable to get the information we needed. The pity party was underway!
I hung up and hobbled into the deli – what took me so long? I called my brother who, thankfully, was at home. Then I took the free ice cream and napkins offered by the deli. Crying and eating ice cream (yep, the party is official)–not caring who saw me, I waited on help from family once again. I stubbornly hadn’t wanted to call. Upon arriving home, I located my policy so I could call AARP back and vent my frustration. It was then I realized I had switched to AAA. Maybe I’ll laugh about this someday, but not today – no, not today.