Due to an appointment with my allergist yesterday morning, I had to work later than usual to make up some time. It's all in the timing I guess. Not only that, but because I'd worked late, I realized I had no time to make dinner at home, so I would have to drive through some where, even though I'd been trying not to eat carbs for a couple weeks now. It was because of those two things that I ended up going south on Richmond Road instead of my usual way home. Somewhere near Tri-C East, I spotted a bronze colored van, kind of old, weaving its way ahead of me. A light had turned green and whoever was driving went way left of center and was sort of weaving his way south. I caught up to him at the next light - at first it looked like maybe he was going to turn left, but he pulled back into the lane in front of me at the last minute. When the light changed, the weaving began again and I thought, "He MUST be drunk." Not only that, but he suddenly slowed way down to about 10 mph under the speed limit, so I finally tooted my horn on him. The guy then floored it and sped down the street in front of me, still weaving and going left of center.
Once again, I caught up to him at the next light, Miles Road. I was turning left, he was still going to continue down Richmond Road. I managed to get up beside him - after memorizing his license plate. He'd left about 3 car spaces between himself and the car in front of him.
He appeared to be talking to himself. Not only that, but he kept looking left and right and finally, he hit himself in the face - sort of a slap, but with the back of his hand to his forehead. I thought, "This guy has GOT to be on something or is so drunk, he's trying to keep himself from passing out on his way home." I turned left and then immediately into the McDonald's parking lot and got out my phone as I watched him drive past. I called 911, told them the story and they put me through to Bedford Heights police. I told them everything I'd seen, gave them the license plate and told them he was still headed south on Richmond. They asked for my phone number in case they had any questions later. I then went inside to get my dinner and didn't think anything more of it.
I got home, grabbed my script, brushed my teeth and headed toward the door to go to the theatre for rehearsal, when I noticed I had a message on my phone. They must have called while I was brushing my teeth.
It was the Bedford Heights Police Dept. They had wanted to let me know that they found the guy and pulled him over. They told me that he was not drunk, but was diabetic and had been going into diabetic shock. They said they were taking him to the hospital and that his car was being towed.
I started crying. I called my Mom and told her what happened and started crying even more. She said, "See? You ARE here for a reason." Which made me cry even more.
You see, when I was 4 years old, I had a cyst growing at the back my skull - the place where as a baby, you have the plates in your head growing together before your skull becomes "one." I had to have the cyst removed. Those are most of the earliest memories I have - going in and out of the hospital and not knowing what was going on or why. My mom told me that her after it was all said and done that "God must have a plan for this one." I didn't know until much later in life that they weren't sure if I was going to make it, or even if because of it's location in the brain, that the surgery wouldn't "erase" everything I'd learned up to age 4.
Now there have been several times when my Mom has said, "The doctors weren't sure if you were going to make it. They thought you were here for a reason." And I've always said, "But will I even know what that reason is? Maybe I won't ever know what that reason is. Maybe I'm here to do something as simple as holding a door for someone that causes a chain of events that wouldn't have otherwise happened - the 'butterfly effect' - and I may never know. And once I do that thing, does that mean I'm done?"
So I called my Mom crying and she said, "See? You are here for a reason." I told her I was crying because I felt guilty that I automatically assumed the worst. I immediately suspected this guy must be drunk or on drugs. I made assumptions that this person had done something bad and I didn't like that. But my Mom said, "Even if he was drunk or on drugs, you may have prevented him from killing himself or harming others. Either way, you saved this man's life."
I called the Bedford Heights police after I got off the phone with my mother. I asked if the man was going to be all right and they said yes.
I played a little bit more of a good Samaritan five minutes later when I went to park at the theatre and had to park all the way back at the River Street Theatre. I noticed that Steve, the man who owns River Street, had left his driver's side door wide open where it was parked in front of his building. I thought that was odd. So I went inside and knocked and found him watching TV in his office. I told him his car door was wide open and asked if he'd meant to leave it open - Steve is in his 80s and now walking with a cane. He got up and said, "Oh, no no no!" I told him to sit back down and not worry about it, that I would close it for him. Although that had me a bit worried about Steve. I went over to CVLT and asked Cindee if anyone was looking out for him and she said there were several people. I let her know what had happened and she said she would check back again with him later tonight.
So I guess maybe it was a good thing that I was where I was yesterday. And it made me feel better knowing someone who could have died was taken care of last night.
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