THE WALK THAT TURNED INTO WORDS By Sidhardha IRRI
A journey of care, courage, and quiet streets
When I first landed in Rochester, Minnesota, I had only one thing on my mind — my sister. She was scheduled for her bone marrow treatment at Mayo Clinic this month, and I was going as her donor. I was there for the blood tests that are important before the procedure.
As I stepped out of the airport and felt the cold air on my face, I quietly prayed: "Let this city take care of her. Let everything go right."
The Wrong Hotel and the Missing Reservation
The shuttle from the airport dropped me near a hotel that looked familiar — but not quite right. I dragged my luggage across the small road, crossed over, and entered the lobby. The place was quiet, the receptionist smiling politely as I gave my name and booking details.
A moment later, she looked up and said softly: "I’m sorry, sir, there are no reservations under your name."
For a few seconds, I just stood there, holding my phone, realizing I was at the wrong hotel entirely. I checked my watch — it was already 1:00 PM. My hospital appointment was at 1 PM too. I was supposed to be there now.
Panic mixed with confusion. I didn’t know how far Mayo Clinic was from there, and the thought of missing the appointment felt unbearable.
When You Don’t Know the Way
I stepped outside again, looking around for a way to reach the hospital. A shuttle stood parked near the curb, but I didn’t know its schedule, where it went, or if I even had access to it. A few electric scooters stood by the sidewalk — bright green and ready to go — but I had no idea how to unlock or rent one.
My Uber app wouldn’t work either because my card wasn’t added. Everything seemed to go wrong at once.
And then, with the hospital name open on my phone and faith as my only map, I decided to walk.
The Walk That Changed Everything
The roads were quiet, the air cold and new to me — not freezing, but just cold enough to make my hands ache and my breath turn white. Rochester felt almost still — no traffic noise, just the sound of my shoes tapping against the pavement. The houses I passed were picture-perfect: small, neat, beautifully old, each with a story in its walls.
As I walked, the scene felt almost cinematic. People passed by — well-dressed, graceful, moving with quiet purpose. Long coats swayed with the wind, scarves fluttered, coffee cups steamed in their hands. Everyone who crossed my path offered a warm smile, as if the whole town was silently saying, "Welcome, you’ve come to the right place."
After walking for about 15 minutes, two nurses in uniform appeared ahead — their presence enough to tell me I was close to Mayo Clinic. My steps quickened, guided by faith and quiet relief, until the Mayo Clinic appeared before me — tall, calm, and shining like hope itself.
At the Hospital
After completing my appointment at the hospital, I spoke with the security staff. They patiently explained how simple it was to get around:
"The shuttles are free and run every ten minutes," they said with a smile, making me realize how simple things could be once you know the way.
“For Those Who’ll Come After”
And in that moment, with my hands still cold and my heart still warm, I found my reason to write — so that someone, someday, walking these same quiet roads, won’t feel lost on their first day.
There are free shuttles waiting at every turn, warm meals for tired hearts, and people here who smile before you even ask for help — as if the city itself is saying, “You’re not alone.”
Rochester may feel quiet at first, but it holds you softly once you begin to trust its rhythm. And if my words can guide even one traveler toward a little comfort, a little hope — then this journey has already done its work.
— Sidhardha IRRI
Note :- That night, somewhere between my fries and my thoughts, the idea for this blog was born. I wanted to create something that would help others — patients, caregivers, families, travelers — anyone who finds themselves in Rochester, unsure where to begin.
