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Monday, May 13, 2019

Furious that we're back to the drawing board with the Lakeshore East extension



David Crome ‏@davidcrome
The GO Train to Bowmanville has been killed for another generation and MPP Park is blaming the Liberals. No surprise! As one who worked with Metrolinx on this project, this spin is not true.

Monday, April 22, 2019

I don't think any of us were ready to pay more

I figured I'd be well into 20-plus years of commuting before I saw the day it would cost me more than $20 round-trip into work each day. But here we are - 2019 - and it's $10.31 one-way with Presto from Oshawa to Union Station.

But wait! There's more!

If you live less than 10 km away from Union Station and would like to avoid the TTC, for the bargain price of $3.70, down $2 prior to April 20th, you can cram onto a GO train and join us all. Ain't it grand all of us in the 905 are subsidizing this for you?

You're welcome.

Oh, and all the kids under 13 who ride for free, you're welcome, too.

Thursday, April 18, 2019

Recovery

Most days I felt like I was floating. Floating in my own body and fighting waves of terror, terror of getting *that* call. The one where I'm told my mom didn't make it. Thankfully, it never came.

Terror is an emotion I just learned about. I had never experienced such uncontrollable fear before. The kind of fear that if left unchecked, can lead to post traumatic stress disorder, and for some people, long-term disability. I vowed to get it under control. I made use of the services available through my group benefits plan at work and put myself in counselling. It helped to have my doctor and other professionals convince me that I wasn't crazy.

I witnessed too much for my heart and soul to hold that night. Watching nurses and doctors flutter frantically around my mother... everything soaked in blood. Hearing her cry out for me and then drift into unconsciousness. Someone telling me she might not make it to Hamilton. Chatter about how she'd lost almost a litre of blood. My mom giving me her jewelry, delirious with pain and telling me she could hear her mother, who has been dead for 45 years, calling her name.

My mom was so pale I could see every vein in her skin. Her belly was so huge from massive internal bleeding, she looked pregnant. It wasn't real. When I had arrived at the hospital in St. Catharines, my mom had been in their ER unit for four hours as they worked frantically to keep her stable, and waited for a specialized ambulance to become available to take her to Hamilton General, where they were better equipped to handle her injuries. It was absolutely surreal.

There was a point, 8 days later, where I went on a tear through my home, screaming and crying uncontrollably, that I was convinced I'd throw myself out of a window just to make the terror stop. To not be in control of terror, of anxiety, is just plain awful. I had just received word that my mom had a blood clot in her lung, that she couldn't breathe, and was being rushed to ICU, after only being out of ICU for three days. I panicked. I couldn't get myself to understand that these things happen. All I could do was tremble uncontrollably, then I started to shake, and then I just started to wail. At one point, while I was on the kitchen floor feeling like I was falling, my husband had me in a bear hug to prevent me from hitting myself. It was fucking awful.

It was too much. For two weeks I had struggled to keep it together. I was trying to process the nightmare my father and siblings, along with our own families, had suddenly been thrown into.

Recovery is happening. We are in recovery. It's been 8 weeks since the near fatal car crash. I've thrown myself into work. I've lost 7 pounds. I barely eat actually. I sleep okay, but I remain on edge. My mother and sister are home. My mom may never be the person she was. She is forever changed by this car crash. She's extremely tired and that's completely normal. I worry about her mental health. My mom is from a generation of baby boomers where feelings aren't discussed, and strength is measured by how much emotion one holds in and hides from the world. It depresses me to talk to her because she holds how she really feels back from me. So, I just keep it pleasant, but it's frustrating.

Easter is all about re-birth. My sister and mother nearly died. This is not lost on me. I feel for anyone who has ever experienced trauma. I'm part of a club I'd rather to have never known about.

Friday, March 1, 2019

Nine years later and my, how things have changed

It's hard to be a blog in today's Instagram, Twitter and Snapchat world. As most of you know, I live and breathe on Twitter, and have been for a while.

Every so often I roll on here and post the odd thing or two. The rest of 2019 looks to be a rough go for me. On Feb 22, my mom and sister (who is cognitively delayed) were in a catastrophic head-on crash just outside of Fonthill, Ontario.

This was a devastating collision with no real answer to the cause. My mother sustained life-threatening injuries and Jen was admitted in critical condition. Although it's only been six days, it feels like sixty.

My mother's car did what it was designed to do. It was destroyed but it saved her life and the life of my sister. Unfortunately, a body in motion remains in motion and my mother's internal injuries were massive. She lost a lot of blood, was transported to a trauma centre in Hamilton, operated on and put into a medically-induced coma. Today was the first day where she's breathing on her own and awakens on her own. She is not out of danger just yet, but she's in the best place she could possibly be to have these complications taken care of.

Jen experienced severe trauma to her body and although not life-threatening, her injuries are extensive enough that she can expect to be in the hospital for at least three months. Coupled with her mental delay and her inability to comprehend the magnitude of my mother's injuries and the crash itself, this whole ordeal has been immensely stressful and challenging for her.

I'm un-tethered. The best way to describe  how I feel is like untangling knots. I get through one only to be faced with another.

I know, it's almost March... I've done very little blogging but it's truly the year of the Park and Ride

Stop and GO – Courtice park and ride gets high marks from local transit blogger

We asked for your feedback on the new GO Transit park and ride lot in Courtice, Ont., and you answered. Including hearing from CJ Smith, who has more time on her hands thanks to the new spots. The transit advocate, and This Crazy Train blog author, says the new lot is shaving 10 minutes off her … Continue reading

Monday, February 18, 2019

I didn't get an invitation to this ribbon cutting ceremony at the new Courtice Park and Ride


In the past, Metrolinx has been great with sending me notices about station openings and ribbon cutting events. I went through three months of email and I am positive I don't have a media advisory on this.

I'm pretty angry. I would have liked to have been there to ask some questions about the service, accessibility and linking in local transit.

I can't help but feel this was deliberate.

Thursday, January 24, 2019

A short note to those who take the 91 Newcastle bus

Hi,

I'm a Courtice Park and Ride passenger. I know you loathe me. I know you loathe me because I've added 10 minutes to your already long commute. I know you'd prefer the park and ride had never been built. And, I also know that the 90 GO bus folks also hate the Ritson Road Park and Ride because it's completely changed how those buses run.

I honestly don't know what to say here. I realize that most days I'm one of five cars parked in the Courtice lot and that causes so much resentment. But you see, the point of expanding transit and building park and rides is to get people off the highways and arterial roads and onto buses. It also frees up parking at the Oshawa GO lot for those who really need it.

I dislike that I even have to DRIVE to the Park and Ride as there is no local transit that goes there. Nor can I walk or bike to it because it's located off a Regional Road with an 80 km/hr speed limit. It's too dangerous.

One day, we will have train service to Bowmanville and that may mean that many people won't ever have to take a bus again. In the meantime, please don't roll your eyes at me when I board the bus. Or, sigh loudly when I exit.

I'm not going anywhere and I really hope we can be friends.

Sincerely,
Cj