This is the end of my last day recovering in Bryson city North Carolina. I will head out tomorrow back to the Trail.
I took a short walk into town today, having slept so much last night. I felt pretty good in town. I bought a few necessities and I bought some probiotics as I believe I will have to handle my immune system like nitroglycerin from this point forward. That, combined with the doxycycline I’m taking, and the recovery time I’ve just taken, should stand me in good stead for tomorrow’s restart. Hopefully I won’t find myself delayed much further in the future— I can’t wait to enjoy the Trail and watch Spring continue to decorate the beautiful mountains and hills of North Carolina.
I forgot to mention one part of the (let’s just be polite and say) “help“ I received and that is the fact that from the hospital I got a ride to this hotel by the local Bryson police. They just happened to be in the Emergency Room lobby when I inquired about Uber or Taxis and found out that nonesuch operate in the city. They just walked over and said “We’ll give you a ride wherever you need to go.” Wow.
The reason I bring it up now is that on my short walk into the city today, one of those Bryson City Police Officers pulled over to talk to me; he asked me how I was doing, if I needed a ride anywhere, (I didn’t as I was close to the store I was going to), and we had a pleasant chat. He gave me his card and said to call him if I needed anything at all.
Now, I’ve had a decent respect for the police growing up, and that was strengthened when I worked with and trained with various police departments -both state and local- while I was in the Army. This experience with the Bryson City Police Department just strengthened that. I just want to thank them all in this small way in this obscure little blog.
I also had a great meal in town at a place called Bojangles Chicken. As I sat down to have my first really big meal since Tuesday, I felt ready for it. I remember thinking how great it was going to be to have a long quiet lunch in a nice sunny clean place. As I began to eat however, I became aware of the constant sound of the slight clacking of a broom and dust pan by an employee who is methodically sweeping the small place.
Once I realize that this was going to go on and on, I became slightly annoyed. I was aware of exactly where he was at all times and I have a particular noise eccentricity whereby any constant noise in the background will cause me to want to jump off a roof if I can’t stop it immediately.
So I pay attention to this guy and I realize he’s sweeping with great care and diligence— an already clean floor. An already very clean floor. I see that he’s moving in a way that seems robotic so I realize that he might be a little different, perhaps somewhere on the autism spectrum. OK. No problem. I noticed as he approaches my table that he has occasional interactions with a customer or one of his fellow employees and that they all seem like pleasant interactions and that the sweeper always seemed to laugh good-naturedly. People were very kind to him. Incidentally, he was undeterred when he approached the square of carpet where I was sitting at my little table— and continued to sweep despite my presence, clacking his little broom and dust pan in and out among my feet and under and around my chair and table. I almost laughed, and my annoyance turned to warmth as he continued past me, taking pride and comfort in his job. As I left about 30 minutes later, he was still sweeping.
I’m glad there is a place for everyone when everyone makes a place.