One HOUR later, I arrived at the clinic. It took fifteen minutes for a streetcar to come, almost as long to travel a straight line to the St. Andrew subway station, and about as long again for a train to arrive and lurch along the northbound line to the Queens' Park subway station. Breathless and in a panic, I finally met up with Lidia in the waiting room on the third floor, only to find out that the ultrasound appointment wouldn't happen until 3:30 PM, almost two hours later than we were told. Of course, I had to get back to work--there's no way I could disappear for more than three hours and not be missed, and left heartbroken that I had to miss this latest chance--only our third--to see the babies again.
I'll spare everyone a rant about the TTC--everyone knows it's a woefully inefficient, corrupt, and contemptible organization that just plain sucks on the best of days. What in the name of hell was I thinking? I've lived here almost 25 years now--I must've been punch-drunk on all this newfound sunshine, and won't make that mistake again.
(For what it's worth: I walked back to work from Mt. Sinai. Total travel time: 25 minutes, including a stop for a spicy Italian sausage...)