The Only Way Out is Through.

For the most part driving cab is not a hard job at all, but it varies from ride to ride. Once that passenger is in your vehicle, for better or worse, the only way out is through.

I'd say approximately 60 percent of all the passengers I take are disabled in one way or another. Today I drove Mrs. G. I was aware that Mrs. G (so named because she used to be a Geography teacher) was afflicted with Multiple Sclerosis, and I had driven her around several times before without much problem. In fact, it's safe to say that I like her very much, I just wish she would use her wheelchair rather than trying to get around with her walker.

As soon as she exited the door of her house I knew that the trip was going to be ill-advised. She just seemed so much weaker and unstable than she had before, but I didn't want to suggest that maybe she stay in today. I should have been a little less polite.

The van I use for a cab has undergone extensive modification and is only about five inches off the ground. Unfortunately five inches was about three inches too high because she was unable to lift her leg high enough to make the step into the cab, and while she didn't quite fall, she did end up on her hands and knees and unable to do anything about it. It happened so quickly that I wasn't able to catch her, but she didn't fall violently enough to hurt herself either.

So now what? What is an appropriate recourse for a cab driver with no medical training other than a crappy CPR class from the military ( incidentally, I was told that I knew just enough to actually hurt someone in that class.)

I did the thing that made the most sense at the time, I picked her up and sat her in the back seat and asked if she really wanted to go out today.

"Yes!! I have to get to Church. They're having communion today."

I loaded up her walker and said OK.

On the way she asked if I had made it to church this morning. I told her that I spend my Sundays making sure other people get to church.

She didn't like that answer.

When I finally got her to the church, she had almost slid off the backseat and it finally dawned on me how bad-off she was. She could hardly move, but was still pushing herself up to make the fifty foot walk to the church doors.

I helped her down the ramp, than at the bottom she gripped her walker and looked up.

"What time is it?"

I told her the time and she asked me, "what time do services start?"

I told her that I had no idea, but that it was kind of late in the day for a church service to begin. I asked her when the service she wanted to go to was supposed to start and she looked up me with these hollow eyes and said, "I don't know."

I was starting to realize that this had all been a mistake when church let out. We were about half way up the walkway when people started to come at us from the doors we were tying to get to, like all of the sudden we were swimming against a current.

At that point her legs had apparently had enough and she mumbled something about sitting down as she gently settled on the cold pavement. I helped her to sit up and caught a glance from one of the parishioners as she walked by. Her face contorted and she didn't stop. In fact no one did right away. I just looked at everyone and they just passed me and Mrs. G by like nothing was wrong. Like the old lady with the walker wasn't actually sitting in the walkway in front of these people's church.

I couldn't believe it and ran inside to find a wheelchair; found an usher and asked for one. He said that they didn't have one. Which I later found to be incorrect. I found a chair with a basket of flowers sitting on it and knocked the flowers over grabbing the chair and received some attention as I ran out of the church with the chair, nearly knocking a fat guy in a Green Bay Packers jacket over.

When I got back out to Mrs. G there was a young man and a young woman seeing if she needed help and about six people standing over the three of them. Since the didn't respond when I said excuse me, the people were moved and the two young people helped me get Mrs. G onto the chair. Before I could say anything to anybody the priest was standing over us...with communion.

He gave it to her quickly and told me that his people would take care of her and make sure she got home OK. Just at that point Mrs. G made a joke about me being Lutheran and Is aw that she was taken care of and realized that I'd had enough...I left.

I still can't believe those people just walked by. Right as they're leaving church, no less. I could have been in the same situation outside of the local bar and had a whole lot more help.

There's no end to this story today because I'm still angry about the whole thing, but I guess it doesn't matter just as long as I got through.