by Pa Rock
Stranded Medical Tourist
The city of Mountain Home in north central Arkansas, is a busy and vibrant community on the shores of beautiful Lake Norfolk. All roads leading into Mountain Home are wooded, hilly, and very scenic, It would be a lovely place to live and work, or retire - the median age is 47.1 years. I live fifty miles to the north and east in West Plains, Missouri, and travel to Mountain Home often to shop in stores which are not available in closer proximity to where I live, and for medical services from a couple of providers. The small city has extensive medical services and providers and a fine hospital.
This week I had a medical appointment in Mountain Home that involved a hospital procedure and required me to have a driver on hand before I could be released from care. My normal driver has a new job and was unavailable, so I decided to go the evening before, get a room, and Uber to the appointment the next morning. When I checked that plan ahead of time with my doctor's office, one of the nurses told me over the phone, "If Mountain Home has an Uber, I'm unaware of it." But I persisted and came the evening before and found a nice motel. The desk clerk said, "If Mountain home has an Uber, I don't know about it."
Mountain Home has a population of around 13,000, but it sits in the center of a metropolitan area of over 40,000. Of course it would have an Uber. West Plains isn't nearly as large, and it has several. (The last one I hired in West Plains was an old farm truck driven by an old farmer - all of which smelled like an old farm - but it got me where I needed to go.)
After getting the motel room, I called my son in Kansas City who handles my rare Uber needs. He found one and arranged for the driver to pick me up at my motel on Wednesday morning in time to get me to where I needed to be. Wednesday morning came and the driver cancelled at the last minute. Uber then notified my son that they had no other drivers available. He then found one taxi driver, but he, too, was unavailable. I finally resorted to driving my car to the hospital and having the procedure. A couple of hours later when it was time to leave, I learned that the hospital was serious when they said you must have a driver. They kept me in the procedure room until a member of the nursing staff was able to procure a taxi. The nice taxi driver brought me back to the motel and arranged to meet me this morning to take me back to the hospital to pick up my car.
The point of this tale is that Mountain Home, Arkansas, would be a goldmine for some ambitious Uber drivers and/or a vigorous taxi company. The scenery and the town are appealing, but the transportation system is appalling.
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