On the buses

19 Jan 2012 by Laura Lewis

I have been a regular bus user since giving up driving four years ago when I fell asleep at the wheel of my car and ended up in a hedge. Daytime somnolence and night-time insomnia are symptoms of Parkinson’s Disease (PD) and incompatible with safe driving. Having surrendered my licence, I received the compensation of a free bus pass. Living near the centre of a large town, I can take full advantage of its efficient bus network. A bus pass is one of the few perks of having PD.

Getting geared up for a bus ride requires some forward planning. The first rule is to locate the bus pass and place in an accessible pocket. This avoids fumbling and tremor when getting on the bus with a long queue of grizzling toddlers waiting behind. Fashion is second to practicality and in winter an anorak and small ruck sack are essential. Negotiating the central aisle with the bus in motion requires free hands to grab the rails and avoid embarrassing close encounters with complete strangers. Other challenges include floor hazards such as over-sized shopping bags, projecting feet and small dogs.

Once I have found a downstairs seat, my favourite pass-time is listening in on the bus chat. This varies according to passenger type and bus route: the weather is a universally popular topic amongst pensioners, passing the hospital the mood changes to operations and gloom and when the students get on the decibels rise and the humour returns.  Sometimes the comments are racist, ageist or sexist – it all comes out with shocking disregard for other passengers in earshot.

Bus rides are seldom dull with their comings and goings and brief encounters between passengers and this week’s journeys have been particularly memorable.

My first bus journey of the week was on the Sunday morning before Christmas when I went into town alone, but unexpectedly started to experience “wearing off” symptoms. I gave up shopping and shuffled towards the nearest bus stop for the No. 26. I had taken my medication, but had to sit down and wait for it to kick in. I found myself sharing the bench with an alcoholic who immediately apologised for being inebriated. Punctuated with sips of vodka, he gave me a history of his addiction and the sad rejection by his close family. Just as he was about to discuss his marriage breakdown, the bus finally swung round the corner, much to my relief. Slowly, we stood up and walked unsteadily to get on it. I wanted to tell the bus driver that it was Parkinson’s and not alcohol that made me unsteady, but he had probably heard it all before.

My second bus experience took place on the Thursday close to Christmas when I took the number 26 to the out-of-town DIY shop for paint. I was feeling fine and within twenty minutes, my mission was accomplished and I headed back towards the bus stop to return home.

Once on the bus, I found a convenient aisle seat near the front so I could make an easy getaway. On approaching my bus stop, I stood up in good time to get my balance, but  the bus lurched,  my carrier bag handle broke and almost two litres of matt emulsion spread over the floor and a couple of nearby passengers. For a moment I was lost for words, but then broke the bad news to the driver with gushing apologies.  By this time, the bus was blocking the A4 traffic and the driver had to call an emergency replacement bus.  I did not wait to hear the outraged response from the rest of the passengers, but grabbed the half-empty can and headed hastily for home; my reactions accelerated by a burst of adrenaline. I had caused chaos with my “Spring Dawn” matt emulsion, but thank goodness I had not dropped a can of “Sunset Glow” in gloss, I reflected later when confessing to the bus company.

Calamities aside, I still rate public transport very highly and the bus has maintained my mobility. However, next time I am carrying paint or another risky substance I might splash out on a taxi instead.

 

About the Author

Laura Lewis
I experienced the symptoms of Parkinson's disease (PD) during my 40s and was diagnosed in 2000 at the age of 47. At the time I worked as a lecturer in a further education college where I was in charge of geography and environmental sciences, and was Senior Tutor to 250 students. I also held the post of Deputy Chief Examiner in geography for the International Baccalaureate and ran training courses for teachers in Africa, the Middle East and Europe. I worked with PD for 6 years and finally retired in 2006. Since retiring, I have setup a support group for those with young onset Parkinson's in the Reading area. I write in my spare time and have published three geography textbooks.

I have three grown-up children who have all left home and I live with my husband, two fat cats and five tortoises. My hobbies are photography, gardening and breeding tortoises and my philosophy is: "there's no time like the present".