Cometh The Hour Cometh The Woman: Part 10

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All errors aside I thought I was handling my change rather well. But bravery is a funny thing; you never know when your courage will be spent…

Cometh the Hour Cometh the Woman: Part 10

[***][***][***]

I woke up to a Saturday morning with nothing to do. You must understand that this is a relatively unique experience for me. Before heading to boarding school that there was always some task to be performed to military standards. You have a working mother who was raised with hired help to do the housework, four sisters who are smarter and sneakier than you so that you end up doing more than your fair share. With the General as your father, you also learn to do it well enough to pass inspection. When I went to Exeter, we had staff to take care of most of the weekend chores, but I just used that time for what God intended, studying and making time with my girl. Well, my girl wasn’t here this weekend… exactly. And as an academic, I kicked that schools ass! but was currently between projects, so to speak. But that was a state of affairs I hoped to rectify soon.

There was no wireless signal within range, despite searching through every room of this mausoleum, I didn’t find an Ethernet port or signs of a cable modem. Likely with the house sitting idle for most of the year, DeGeas had never bothered paying the monthly rate for a hookup. After dressing myself in the Capri pants and a t-shirt for the local football team to easily blend in with the natives, of course, who the hell could support a team calling themselves the CORNHUSKERS? I had a quick breakfast of oatmeal and banana. I then grabbed my laptop case and consolidated all the items from my purse that I think I would use in the day. Since I only know about half of the items that I inherited actually did, this didn’t take long.

One of the nice things about this house that I could get used to was that it had three garage stalls. I had parked Melanie across two of them last night, I felt decadent and debouched while I did it. It was an automated garage to which I had found three remote openers on the shelf next to workbench. The first opened the one on the left, the second the one on the right, but the third one was juuuuuuuuuuuust right.

I dropped my bag on the passenger side and slid into my girl oh… so… smoothly, and was away into the brisk morning air. I remembered on my Thanksgiving visit, seeing a little bit to the east, one of those quaint market squares. Apparently it use to be its own town, but was gobbled up by the city that surrounded it, and now was a place for the local gentry to buy overpriced art, drink wine, eat cheese, and feel superior about themselves while they did it.

But it also had a coffee shop, which I remembered fondly, was a refuge for Jessica and me for the three days she was forced to pretend to like her stepmother. It was called the Blue Line Coffee. The inside looked like a hippie and a beatnik had a beat down, made up, fell in love and had a really screwed up baby who decided to open a coffee shop. He made a damn fine cup of coffee though, and that’s no lie. I decided on the mocha latte, this was the sort of place that actually carried it to your table when you were finished ordering, not force you to wait around like a sheep in the stockyards waiting to be sheered. I claimed a spot in the corner, next to an electrical outlet and the ladies room since I knew that I would be here for a while, since neither the laptops battery nor my bladder were built for endurance.

I decided to take a shotgun approach to college admissions. Fall term started most places in less than three months, it was rather late in the game to be starting all this. Jessica and I had applied to the Academy together, and she had followed my advice to store most of the relevant documents and essays on a remote server so all was not lost to the terrors of the T.S.A. Most colleges also required that the highs school send them an official transcript directly, not willing to take the word I suppose of some teenager when he is trying to get into the most important school in his life. It was in Exeter’s best interest to have their students admitted to the finest schools, so they made the process of sending out transcripts to colleges as streamlined as possible. Just log into your student account, select a destination, pay the small fee. I could even pay with PayPal. So...just to be a dick to the girl who had stole mine, I used Tom Ryan’s account to pay for it.

[***][***][***]

I had just finished with Georgetown, it’s amazing how little you need to change in an admissions essay, just replace ‘the navy’ with ‘society’ and its all good, when the website prompted me to ask if I wanted a printout for my own records. I didn’t have one of those mobile jobs with me, and couldn’t remember seeing one back at the house, either, so I took some initiative and saw if this cute little girl act could be put to work for me.

“Hello,” I said smiling to the owner who was wiping down a table near the front counter.

“Good morning,” he acknowledged back to me with a wave of his towel. “You need something else? I’ve got some fresh baked blueberry scones.”

“Um, yes. That sounds wonderful, but I was hoping I could bother you for something else. I saw that you have a little office back there, I’m doing some college admissions, there is no internet at my house, is there a way I could use your printer for a bit?”

“There is a library down the street,” he countered clearly annoyed at my question as he continued on the table.

“Yeah, but public servants won’t serve me this fantastic coffee. How about I slip you ten bucks to pay for the inconvenience,” I said as I upped the wattage on my smile. “I’ll save them all to a memory stick. When it’s time to print I’ll just make one trip… please… oh and I’ll buy a blueberry scone too.”

“Ha,” he chuckled defrosting a little bit. “OK, Miss, you got a deal.”

I went back to my table and went to work on the next school, I basically pulled up a map of Maryland and drew a mental line about 100 miles away from Annapolis. It covered a good portion Delaware, Northern Virginia and parts of Pennsylvania., not to mention our own nation’s capital treasured in song and legend. That range also stretched far enough to cover Atlantic City, but I quickly discounted it because, well… Jersey. I was very conflicted while I did this, I was doing it for two reasons, neither of which exactly filled me with joy. I was either applying to all these schools on behalf of the woman who scorned me, presupposing that I could find a steadily growing smaller chance of a way back. Or the second reason, I was heading to a school back east so I could be closer to my man.

Ugh

But I was comforted by the memory of the phone call she made a few days ago. When she was faced with a problem she turned to me, deep down inside she still wanted me. She had even apologized in away even if I had thrown it back in her face in my moment of justifiable anger. She wanted me, she was sorry… and deep down inside, I sort of still was crazy about her.

Love is like that. If it was easy everyone would do it.

I spent most of Saturday there, leaving only when it was time for dinner, something a bit more substantial than light pastries. But I was back there early Sunday morning, the owner gave me a nod and a smile when I sat down at the same table I had held court at yesterday. It was sort of nice going to these little independent shops. Two days running, and already I was a regular. This belief was solidified when he slipped me the wireless password for his printer and said I could ‘settle up at the end of the day.’ I resolved to try the oatmeal raisin cookies today, any man that sweet had to make some killer cookies. I took a sip from my Mocha and went to work on college #13 of the weekend. I was most of the way through it when I was rudely interrupted.

“Well, hello,” said a smarmy voice from over my shoulder. “Applying for colleges? I got in months ago, maybe I could give you a hand?”

The voice belonged to a well dressed punk kid, who looked about twenty two, so if he was telling the truth and not trying to lie in order to ingratiate himself into my panties, it was likely he was held back a grade or three. That or they just grow em big and dumb looking here in corn country.

“I’m quite all, right thank you,” I replied trying to brush him off and continue with my applications.

“Are you sure,” he said as he sat down at my table, THE PRESUMPTION! leaned over to take a look at my screen. “Some of those essay questions can be pretty though, what did you get on your A.C.T.?”

“Didn’t take one,” I said not bothering to look up from my work, and trying not to give him any encouragement.

“S.A.T.?”

“2350,” I said looking him hard in his steadily wider growing eyes. 2400 was perfect, I had taken the fucker five times trying to do it, and was morally certain they kept screwing me on an answer just so the statutory Asian kid could get it. That’s what America has come to, I guess. Always keeping the white man down. Jessica had gotten a 2200, and was quite content with her 99th percentile on the first try. Which just goes to show that I will never understand women.

“Um that’s a good score right, I only got a 20 on the A.C.T. I’m not sure how it compares.”

“Nor I,” I agreed unemotionally.

“Look,” he said scooting a little closer down the bench toward me. “You wanna go to a movie or something when you get done. They have this new one they built out at Westroads. It’s so cool! They have these little screens on the walls that they use in place of movie posters, and they play the trailers while you are walking to get your popcorn.”

“It sounds very nice,” I agreed.

“My name is Greg Rivas,” he said offering his hand. “What’s yours?”

“Married,” I said holding up my ring finger for his inspection.

“Well Mary,” he said smiling while trying to brazen it out. Not believing I guess that someone who looked as young as me could be in a state of wedded bliss. “I don’t see anyone else around here at the moment so how about I pick you up at six?”

“I am married,” I said rolling my eyes. “That wasn’t a joke, please leave me in peace.”

“So where is the guy who got in before me, I want to see if I can reason with him.”

GOOD LUCK! I thought to myself.

“He’s,” I hesitated because I did not in fact know where my spouse currently was. “He’s in the Navy, I’m looking for schools back east so I can be closer to where he will be posted.”

“Well, you know what they say, 'a sailor has a wife in every port', stands to reason that a wife should have a sailor in every port, too. Can I pick you up tonight if I promise to wear that cute little white hat?”

“Just get the hell out of here!” I shouted and was about three seconds from doing a lobotomy by removing his testicles with my bare hands when the owner stepped up next to my table.

“There a problem here, Miss?” he asked me.

“Yes,” I answered scowling at the jerk.

“No,” Greg countered still with that stupid grin on his face. “Mary and I were just getting to know each other, why don’t you go get me a frappuccino, or Al Pacino, or something.”

“Funny,” the white haired owner stated as he looked down at the interloper. “But Dennis Leary already made that joke. Him, I think is hilarious; you I think are out of here, come on get up!”

“Oh come on!” shouted Greg as he was being manhandled. “Be seeing you around Mary.”

The owner yanked him out of his seat, once he was standing, the punk didn’t put up any sort of fight, which sort of told me how I stood in his order of priorities, undying love it was not. He walked toward the front door in a huff, hit it hard enough to ring the bells on top for a good five seconds afterwards. The entire shop was watching him go at this point, then most of them turned to take a look at me and see what the cause of this drama was.

I sort of didn’t appreciate the looks.

Doing my best to ignore it, I went back into the application, and completed it shortly thereafter. I was steadily reaching the point of diminishing returns. Georgetown had a certain glory to it, but after that, all the schools I applied too were all pretty much the same, being defined by their one major feature i.e. not being the Naval Academy. Still a bit flustered, I gathered up all my equipment, retrieved my printout, and went to the counter to slip another ten on top of the register. I thanked the owner profusely for all his help., I think he was expecting a hug or something, because he leaned in suggestively, but I headed him off at the pass and raised my arm for a handshake instead. I wasn’t quite up to code on this girl stuff, and being reminded of my gender by the amorous attentions of farm boy over there hadn’t made me any happier with it. I mean, this sort of thing wasn’t supposed to happen! I was supposed to be impervious to it, what the hell did I pay good money for a wedding ring FOR!!!

Oh…right

[***][***][***]

That evening after dinner, I decided to shave my legs for the first time. As emasculating as it was, particularly since it followed the incident at the coffee shop, it was also starting to offend my sense of aesthetics. Jessica’s legs should just LOOK better than that. Since she wasn’t around to give them the treatment they deserved, I guess it fell to me. Besides, there was probably some valid medical reason for doing it, wouldn’t want the doctor to tell me tomorrow to shave my legs otherwise the baby would come out with rug burn or something.

It wasn’t as complicated as I thought it might be, shaving my face was all: angles, curves, tough to reach nooks and crannies. By the time you got a nice run going, you had to stop and turn around. When doing my legs, I could do nice even length strokes, and it was oddly soothing. I took my time about it, I didn’t want the doctor to treat any lacerations when she was down there either. I probably used more foam than was strictly necessary as well. But my duty was done, all honor to me.

Monday morning arrives whether we want it to or not. The phone number I had given Delta way back when they were freighting my gear across the plains was no good anymore. So, I had to call in every day to find out if the Conestoga wagon had come in yet. Wonder of wonders, it had done so today. With the minimum of hassle, I should be able to run down to the airport and pick it up before my doctor’s appointment, with plenty of time to spare. Melanie was looking at me all flirty when I entered the garage, the lights winked off her coat very suggestively. I took my purse with me, this time. I wasn’t going to lug around a heavy laptop and case since I didn’t know how long I would be. Besides, I figured it was good camouflage. I didn’t want the lady parts doctor to smell a red herring while she was examining.

.Err.

My little Jeep ate up the miles as we headed down into the Missouri River Valley and the waiting airport. I was directed to the north end of the field where a couple of long squat windowless buildings stood a few hundred feet from the gated tarmac. I waited only a few short half hours to be served and I left with Jessica’s remaining suitcases, after paying the modest ransom that was tacked on as a ‘storage fee’ by Delta when I didn’t pick them up on Friday. Apparently, the person who got my call then, and also on Saturday was ‘new’, and didn’t know how to find my paperwork…. I still owed the fee though. I swear, mutiny would have worked too if only it wasn’t for that meddling kid!…

Anyway, I was out of there with Melanie loaded up with only the slightest groan from the weight. I was westward bound for the hospital and my appointment with Dr Helen Lyons of the Methodist Women’s Center. The waiting room was about what I would have expected, the pink was overpowering, but I think I was starting to get used to it. I had brought a book to read, one of the several I had identified from Jessica’s library that I had not read yet and had some sort of desire, too. I hadn’t read “Anne of Green Gables”, but that twilight zone episode where all the rest of the world’s paper was eaten away by microbes would have to be reenacted before I would consider it. Though, on second thought it, had to be better than ‘contemporary O.B.G. news’ and the article “Intravenous iron sucrose versus oral iron in treatment of iron deficiency anemia in pregnancy”.

But only just.

[***][***][***]

I was walked into the examination room right on time, which was sort of a first for me. The authority held by Mr. DeGeas as the éminence grise of this town must be wider than I thought. I was asked to undress by the nurse and don the gown provided. I’m sure you’ve seen pictures of them before, so I’m not going to draw one for you in your mind of what I looked like in one. Let’s just put it at unbecoming and leave it at that. After taking my vitals and measurements, the nurse left me alone in the room to stare at the various medical posters that were on display throughout the room. I looked at a life-size cutaway showing what the baby looked like at several points through the process from just after conception all the way through nine months. I looked at the one that displayed where about I was, it measured about the size of my thumbnail, but apparently the elbows and toes have begun to form on it.

I looked forward along the wall to a poster of mother and child at nine months. The female figure was about as tall as me, I stood right next to it so I could get a good comparison of what was ahead of me and how big little miss or mister might be when he left the little hole that Jessica left me… That fucker looked HUGE!! I clenched my legs in instinct.

“Good morning, Jessica,” said a woman in a lab coat as she opened the door to see me comparing myself with paper products. “I’m Doctor Lyons.

“Oh,” I said surprised. “I’m sorry, doctor, good morning. I was just looking at the posters you have here, and thinking of THINGS TO COME, so to speak.”

“I understand, that’s what they are there for.” she said smiling as she set her clipboard down on the table and washed her hands in the sink next to it. I suppose I should be grateful for small dignities.

“I’m going to examine you while I ask some questions,” She continued “I don’t have any of your medical records, so we will need to start from scratch. It will be basically like any other gynecological exam you’ve had.”

'Shows what you know.' I thought.

“Now when was your last period?" she asked.

“Daaaaaaa, I’m not sure,” I said while trying to remember if Jess had been particularly cranky.

“Were they erratic? That’s a warning sign,” The doctor asked concerned.

“Oh no, at least I don’t think so, they came every month regular as far as I could tell. It’s just, there has been quite a bit going on since then. I was trying to think. March I think, early March. I know that I’ve only had sex a few times, and the culprit was probably when I was having a fever and my birth control pills were not as effective. That was March 18th, so, if I remember health class correctly, my last period should have been two weeks before that, so March 4th if you need to enter something in the records.”

“So, you were not very sexually active?” she asked writing down in her notes.

“No, at least not in comparison to everyone else, it seems like. Only four times, ever. All with the same boy.”

“All it takes is one. And you didn’t use a condom?”

“She said she, that is my girlfriend, one of my friends who is a girl, said all I needed was the pill, that, wearing a condom wasn’t necessary.”

“Most times it isn’t, but there is always the risk the he will give you a sexually transmitted disease or several,” she said as she looked down at the clipboard.

'Hey now!' “I was, that is, both of us were virgins when we had sex, we were never with anyone else," I argued in my own defense.

“Very well, just please remember the risks, forgoing a condom is usually only done with married or committed couples.“

“We were committed, and we did get married.”

“Oh?” she looked up surprised. “It’s not in the chart, but then the DeGeas didn’t give me much to go on… my congratulations to you. Will your husband be attending the prenatal appointments.”

“Ah, no,” I stated embarrassed. “He’s in military, in Maryland. I will be joining him there, soon.”

“Will you?” she said and sniffed. It might have been my imagination, but she gave off the impression of disapproving of me. Like I was some white trash stereotype who hooked herself a man with benefits and a pension, about to ride on the gravy train. “Well, then we will get you started today, you can contact me when I need to forward your charts to your next doctor. Please put your feet in the stirrups."

This was the part that I was dreading, rightfully so. Whenever my sisters would try to get to me, usually when I was trying to digest at the dinner table, they would start trading stories of their various experiences in this torture chair. Mother never stopped them, perhaps believing that I needed a bit of a taking down. They never did it when the General was home, probably because they knew better, and that he was just as likely to start relating stories of sucking chest wounds, it was even money which was more disgusting. Actually, it wasn’t quite that bad, yet. The instruments had been warmed in a dish of hot water, and while it was a little odd feeling, it wasn’t quite the violation my sisters had been happy enough to descri-----

Ooooooooooooooooooh boooooooyyyyyyyy!. I only just stopped myself from shouting.

“I know,” said Doctor Lyons giving me a warm encouraging smile from between my legs. “But its necessary, and I need to be able to examine some of the hard to see places.”

She spent more time down there than I thought she should, even from my limited understanding of how all the pieces fit together. I remember being told that when the OB/GYN was a man, there would always be a female nurse in the room for the examination. The assumption being that the patient would be more comfortable being examined by someone of the opposite gender if someone of the same gender was there to make sure nothing got out of hand. I wonder what the good Doctor Lyons would say if I asked her to stop and go and find some six foot six linebacker of a male nurse to watch her so she didn’t take any liberties with me.

That was a happy thought that kept me going all through the rest of the examination. And soon enough, she was done down there and began lifting up my gown to expose more of my belly, and began rubbing a clear jelly over it.

“It’s a bit early for an ultrasound,” the doctor continued as she rolled over a medial device to my table. “But since I don’t have any of your previous records, I want to get as good a picture of the situation as possible.”

“Don’t you need a microscope at this point?” I quipped remembering the posters.

“Oh I know what I’m looking for,” she said smiling ruefully, then after a few minutes, looked up. “Things look normal, we are quite a ways away from determining if everything is all systems go, but indications are good at this point.”

“Do you,” I said as dignified as I could from my recumbent position. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

“Much too soon for that, the parts haven’t even started growing yet, though that is coming in about two weeks. Another two months or so and we will be able to tell definitively on the ultrasound. There are some blood tests and amniocentesis that can be done a bit earlier but it’s a bit invasive to settle mere curiosity.”

“I see,” I commented as she finished the scan and cleaned me up from the residue. She went back to the sink to wash her hands and then invited me to sit up on the table in a much more flattering position.

“Well, Jessica, things look good for a first time mother, I’m sure you have a lot of questions. I’m going to be sending you home with a list of reading materials and lists of things to eat and of things not to eat, what is safe to do, what not, You’re going to have a lot of homework ahead of you, young lady. I hope you are a good student. Now, I know this can be frightening, particularly for someone so young, so I would like to take this time to answer any questions you might have.”

“Um well, things really look good?”

“Quite good, you are in remarkable physical shape, you must be an athlete.”

“Well, I was… I was headed toward the Naval Academy when I found out I was pregnant. My husband is there right now. They have rather strenuous physical requirements, we did a lot of working out together.” 'In more ways than one!'

“Well, you certainly look like you've taken care of yourself. That’s a good portion of preparing for a healthy pregnancy and delivery. There is no reason you can’t, and many reasons you should maintain a good exercise regime all the way up to delivery, which by the way, if your recollection is correct and my examination concurs, should be on or about December 5th.”

“One of those Christmas birthdays kids, huh? I always felt sorry for them. Until I released everyone else did too and made sure they had twice the amount of presents they'd otherwise have gotten in a whole year.”

“Kids are sneaky that way, I have two myself.”

“What was it like,” I asked before I even realized I did.

“That’s a question that would take months to answer, Nine months actually,” she joked and smiled at her own humor. “I’ll only say that it was better than I was told by all my friends who had gone before and tried to scare me with horror stories. And the delivery was nothing to be afraid of at all.”

“I,” I said softly as I gathered my thoughts and courage. ”I’m not sure what was in the information DeGeas sent, I didn’t see a spot to fill out on the questionnaire before I came in from the waiting room. But my, my mother died in childbirth; does that mean I have a higher risk?”

“It doesn’t help certainly,” said Doctor Lyons as she took my hand. “But it’s not a death sentence for you, if that’s what you mean. Do you know what the cause was?”

“Eclampsia, I think, it’s not something that was talked about much.”

“It seldom is, but that something that can be managed, it’s usually a result of hypertension, you show no signs of that. Indeed, your blood pressure and cholesterol are better than mine are, it must be nice to be 18!” she smiled at me trying to get my spirits up. “How old was your mother.”

“Um” I said trying to remember the seldom spoken of vital statistics. Jess and I had traded family trees once in third year for a history project, but it’s not the sort of thing a guy expected to be quizzed on later. “36 or 37 or so, I’m sorry I don’t know exactly.”

“Well, you never knew her, of course,” said Doctor Lyons as she walked over to one of the posters. “Fertility actually peaks in your mid twenties, but as far as the actual child BEARING portion of pregnancy goes, 18 is almost perfect. Your body is physically mature enough, but still young enough to recover quickly and totally. You have no idea the horror stories I hear told to me by mothers in their 30’s or 40’s about the fight they have to give in order to get back in their bikinis after giving birth. But for you! I doubt you will need what the plastic surgeons are offering as a ‘mommy makeovers’.”

'Perish the thought.'

“Your own mother,” she said indicating a line on the chart. “Was technically speaking a geriatric pregnancy, though for obvious reasons, women never liked to be referred to as that! It just means that her body was a little on the old side to be having a baby, and the odds just caught up with her. The odds are in YOUR favor Jessica, there is very little for you to worry about. The simple fact is you were well designed as a baby making factory, right now you are in the optimal zone.”

While being referred to as that was a bit off-putting, I was oddly comforted by her well put together explanations. I was soon allowed to put on my own clothes, and after sorting out the paperwork at the front desk, left the hospital, having solved my reading list problem. If I did as the doctor ordered and read them all, I would be set for weeks. Melanie was waiting faithfully for me, and having seen a public library on my drive to the hospital, I decided to stop by and begin on my homework. The small branch only had a few of the titles, but after signing me up first for a library card, how had Jessica avoided that? they put them on request for me, and I could pick them up in a few days.

I was most of the way back to the house when I sort of had a mental breakdown.

It had slipped past me, as busy as I had made myself the last few days. I had been concentrating on fixing what needed to be done, planning for my future which since I now wore the body of Jessica Ryan née Scott, must perforce be her future, lock stock and gyno appointment. But as I braked just in time to avoid messing up Melanie’s pretty face on a park tree, I had just realized something. Right around the time I was having some strange woman’s finger up my kazoo. Thomas Sullivan Ryan was swearing his midshipman’s oath as he entered the United States Naval Academy.

[***][***][***]

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Comments

Cometh The Hour Cometh The Woman: Part 10

Experiencing what any young, pregnant woman will go through must be changing Thomas/Jessica. But having a gentleman defend her honor against a cad ho won't respect the marriage vows in an effort to score is a most definite plus.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

I found some of Jessica nee

I found some of Jessica nee Tommy's thought processes hilarious. Especially her thinking about the car as a sort of person. The offended aesthetics and the big buff guy made me smile.

Ah, stirrups. Had my first experience of that torture device when the surgeon removed the packing after my SRS just last week. I am SO not repeating that experience if I can, but I suspect I won't be able to avoid future, um, inspections.

Great chapter! Please keep on writing.

Serves the punk kid right

Renee_Heart2's picture

For getting tossed out of the cafe for TRYING to hit on Jessica (the new Jessica). Well as long as Jessica keeps physical & stays in shape she will have a good problem free pregnency & a healthy baby. But in the meantime she needs money & health insurance. As for Tommy (the old Jessica) taking his Naval pledge nothing can be done about that now. It looks like she has a LOT of reading to do.

Love Samantha Renee Heart

Hi LBS!

It's nice to see that thomas/Jess is getting Jess's life sorted out because he will in all likelyhood be stuck with it. I'm looking forward it whats next... (Hugs) Taarpa

Double-crossed dressing

The more I'm learning just how anal Thomas was the more I'm wondering quite what Jess saw in him n I'm even beginning to have sympathy for her double-crossed dressing. k-jo

I was lying down minding my own business when life came by and drove right over me