This evening when I was leaving the day job, I noticed a woman walking down the street. She was wearing scrubs and looked distressed. She was clutching her left arm, and appeared to have the kind of band aid that the hospitals put on when they pull the IV out. I knew I was going to regret it, but I offered her a ride. At that point I believed she had been released from the hospital and didn't have a ride. This happens sometime. Every now and then we have someone show up from the hospital down the street and they just got out, and can't make it home on foot like they thought they could.
She got into the car, and wham, dirty hair smell. But I persisted. I had trouble getting her to wear the seat belt. She couldn't give me an address. But I persisted. Finally she told me to take her to the center of town. So I did. During this ride she said that she was losing her mind and couldn't remember where she lived. I let her out at the main drag, and drove off, puzzled. Finally I figured out that she had dementia and I helped her escape from the long term place further down the street from the regular hospital.
Hummm, not quite sure what to do. She was wearing light clothing. It's going to get around 32 degrees tonight. Hopefully she will be found in time, or something. It's way to late to call the place up and tell them where I took her. She must be miles away by now. I wish I hadn't given her a ride. I must conquer these impulses.
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