When I was 14-years old, my present to my mother was a broken toilet. I was taking a shower and when I finished, opened the bathroom door. Within seconds I was passed out on the floor. I woke to the bathroom flooding, the tank busted, and a towel rack twisted like a candy cane. I don't remember anything after opening the door, but no one else was there so I had to have done the damage.
I kept turning the shutoff valve and it seemed to not be working. I panicked and started yelling for someone to come help me. No one was in the house. I called my grandfather, who lived next door. He came out of his house yelling for my mother. She was in the alley, weeding. I didn't know that.
My grandfather was running, well hobbling, as fast as he could and my mom just zipped past him like he was standing still. I watched it all from the bedroom window, still crying into the phone.
Mom came in like a whirlwind, twisted the handle on the shut-off valve and viola! No more water. Well, there was water. Lots of it. The bathroom flood on that floor leaked into the downstairs and flooded the basement bathroom too. It took all the towels and most of the blankets in the house to mop up the water and start the process of drying out the house.
She had to get a new tank for the toilet. Try doing that in a small town on a holiday Sunday! She did get one and I watched and helped her put it in. Then, she handed my brother a sledgehammer and we both watched as he demolished the old tank. It was his idea. She let him. She said it would be easier to throw away in small pieces, so why not?
I wouldn't denigrate Mother's Day as being a bad day if that had been the only incident. My mother-in-law passed away a couple of days after Mother's Day. I've had numerous accidents, injuries, and just bad news and crappy luck on the holiday. Yesterday, not an exception to the crappy Mother's Day rule.
I was running a load to Illinois from Kansas. A nice run, pleasant weather, and no real issues. I pick up a load assignment from the Illinois destination and move to the next one. That's the life of a truck driver. Moving from assignment to assignment is the whole job.
I picked up the new load and headed for the Iowa destination a little over 100 miles away. Rather than interstate travel, I had to take some state highways and go through some towns. I prefer interstates because the speed limit is higher and people are generally given more room to get around slower moving trucks.
The highway traffic was impatient. I was going the speed limit, but it seemed like everyone was in a hurry. I had at least 3 cars up my ass the whole time. After hanging out behind me for a little while, they'd start zooming past me like they were late for a hot date. What? No one can tell time or set an alarm so they're not running late? It's not like Mom won't forgive you for running behind. She might be more upset about the phone call from the hospital or the police saying you wouldn't be making it to any dinners in the future because you were stupid.
It's sad how many people risk their lives and the future holidays with their families because they don't leave on time, or early. It's stupid and I feel sorry for all the families who lose loved ones during holidays. Allowing yourself to risk your family and friends to always associate holidays with something so life-altering is just selfish.
Enough of my after-school special.
I get to my destination and call for a manager to meet me at the receiving office. It's hot, the doors are locked, I can't get out of the heat, and they're taking their sweet time. I call back again and then again. Finally, they get to the door and sign my bills so I can break the seal and back into the dock. Yay! I can feel the air conditioning in my near future!
I pull the truck forward to make room for the doors to open and that's when my stressful day goes to hell. The stack of pallets at the back of the trailer starts falling. I jump back as fast as I can, but the product still hit my hand, wrist, and arm.
I have to go to the office and track the guy back down so he can take care of the pallets that are laying upside down on the ground behind the trailer. My neck and back are starting to hurt, my head is pounding from the heat headache, and I'm still not done with this place. Getting into my truck is a no-go because I have to watch them clean up the mess so I can dock.
The cause of the collapse? Pickles. The pickle jars lost their lids at some point. The pickle juice soaked the cardboard, collapsing it. When I opened the doors, the unstable load on top of the pickles had nothing to hold them in place. The shipper regularly sends loads sealed and without any kind of restraints.
Me, as the driver breaking the seal and opening the doors, is the one at risk of injury. I escaped major injury this time, but I had another load of wood that fell. That one cut me a little as it fell. Again, another close call. It's just as easy to be blamed for the collapse and breakage and have that fall back on the company or the driver themselves. I didn't load or secure it. I just transported it to the customer.
The end result is wasted time and my back hurts. Jumping around trying not to get crushed is not a good activity for someone who has arthritis from old injuries. Oh well. It's not the first time, it won't be the last. If I get crushed under a falling load who gets to sue?
On a happier note, my kids sent me Happy Mother's Day texts. My aunt sent me a note and one of my friends sent me a note. I wasn't forgotten this year! Yay!
Thanks for reading about my Mother's Day,
Renae - The Truck Driving Woman
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