10 minutes, 15 minutes, then 20 minutes passed as the NJ transit train I was on sat in one spot.
I could hear other commuters start to grumble. Most of them picked up their phones and placed calls to try to figure out what was going on.
“An Amtrak train is disabled in one of the tunnels. We will be single tracking into New York Penn. Hopefully we will be on the move soon.”
My heart began to beat faster when I looked at my phone and saw the time.
Am I supposed to tell my bosses and co-workers I’ll be there sometime today? I wondered.
I looked out the window to see if we’d made it to Secaucus station. I figured I could change trains there, go to Hoboken, then take the Path train to 33rd, walk to the number one train and finally make it to work. But, we were in the middle of nowhere.
I’m not good at surrendering, I thought as I began to fidget in my seat. I’ve had to fight for some many things. I’ve battled my doctors for care, the illness inside me, to not be overburdening at work, and, at times, to be respected regardless of my gender, race or disability. I shouldn’t have to struggle to get work too.
Just as my frustration soared, the man across from me became agitated. He was yelling at someone on his phone about the delay. I looked out the window at the line of stalled NJ transit trains and it occurred to me.
There is nothing I can do, I thought. I have to just wait for the train to move. There’s no sense getting upset. The down time before I work will be good for me.
I typed a message to my co-workers telling them why I’d be late. Then, I sat back, relaxed, read my Essence Magazine and typed my blog post. I didn’t stress about when I was going to arrive again.
Read days 1-24 here:
#spoonie #autoimmunedisease #invisibleillness #chronicillness #chronicpain #igg4 #disability #2018 #joythroughthepain #friendship #backpain #coworkers #njtransit #Amtrak @essence