National Week With[out] Driving, take 2

It's Thursday, Day 4 of the first National Week Without Driving, and my week isn't going as planned.

Yesterday afternoon, a friend phoned to say that her broken wrist wasn't staying properly aligned in its plaster cast, so she had been scheduled for surgery today--could I drive her? 

The correct answer in such situations isn't "I'm not supposed to drive this week"--it's "absolutely, at your service, glad I can help."

The surgery had been scheduled for mid-afternoon today. This was fortunate for me, since I have a teaching commitment at Claymakers on Thursday mornings. But even if I planned to drive to work in the morning, I wouldn't have enough time after my class to pick up my friend and get her to the surgical center by her check-in time.

We brainstormed solutions. The surgical center is located ~11 miles from my friend's home, and ~8 miles from Claymakers. 

Solution 0: We could take mass transit to the surgical center. (Hahahaha. This one's just here in the spirit of Week Without Driving. We didn’t actually consider it.)

For me, traveling from Claymakers, assuming I could time it right and buses were running on time, taking mass transit would mean a 35-minute bus ride with 5 minutes of walking on each end--about 45 minutes total. That would make me late for my friend's check-in time.

For my friend, from her home, with the same assumptions, taking mass transit would mean about 20 minutes of walking combined with two different bus rides, plus some waiting time between buses--about 1.33 hours total. 

Getting home together, after her surgery, with friend possibly feeling some pain and possibly still loopy from anesthesia, would require almost 1.5 hours, including two bus rides, some waiting, and 20 minutes of walking.

If a bus were running early, we might miss it; if a bus were running late, we'd be late. Mass transit would not be a reliable way to get from point A to point B.

Solution 1: I would drive to work. My friend would drive herself to the surgical center, and I would show up in my own car a little late. 

Assuming the surgical center would even allow her to check in without an accompanying human, this proposal would mean having two cars there, and only one able driver for the drive home.

Solution 2: I would drive to work. She would take an Uber to the surgical center, and I would show up in my own car a little late. 

She phoned the surgical center to ask if I could arrive late. They said they'd give me an extra 30 minutes max.

Solution 3: Friend realized I could walk to Claymakers, she could pick me up at the end of my class, and she could drive us both to the surgical center. I could then drive us both home after the surgery. 

This sounded so optimal, we never got to Solution 4, which presumably would have involved other Uber configurations or other friends.

So for Day 4 of this avid walker's Week With[out] Driving, my friend and I are trading driving places for a few hours. I hitched a ride with her to her surgery, and after her bones are properly pinned in place, I'll drive her home.

Once I get home, I'll hopefully have time for a long walk before the sun sets (or after--I'll take what I can get), because I'm now two days-worth of miles down from where I need to be to reach my weekly walking goal.

I'm typing in the waiting room...

The soothing view outside the waiting-room window: a parking lot.

Postscript 

The second photo bugs me. The parking lot is largely empty. All that impervious surface, designed to accommodate more drivers than typically need it (assuming today is a typical day). I can't see a sidewalk beyond it, although there's one across the street. 

Google says the closest bus stop is 0.4 miles away. When I click on Google Maps' proposed route from the surgical center to the bus stop, I'm shown a wee orange warning triangle with an exclamation point inside, and the text "Use caution - may involve errors or sections not suited for walking."

"Not suited for walking." Of course this area isn't suited for walking. Suburban commercial development is designed for cars, not people. Thankfully, though, some optimists--or realists--put a bus stop on a wide, well-traveled street running through a commercial area not suited for walking. The location isn't ideal if you need surgery a 0.4-mile walk away, but at least the stop acknowledges that people need alternatives to driving.