I Can't Drive 55

Well, it is official.  I can’t drive 55, or at least I can’t unless I have the help of my cruise control.  My reasons for not driving 55 are very much different from Sammy Hagar’s.   My husband has been hounding me, yes HOUNDING ME, to look into getting hand controls for my car.  I am having increased pain and weakness in my right foot.  I keep thinking it will get better, hoping, praying.  However, it has now been almost 9 months of very limited or no driving at all.  The day it really hit me that I needed to give into this request was an early Monday morning.  My husband was out of town, and it was up to me to get my daughter to her school that was 15 miles away.  I got into the car, started the engine, put it into reverse to back out of our garage.  I pressed the gas, nothing, tried again, still nothing.  My muscles just were not going to cooperate.  So I gave it some help by pressing down on my knee with my hand to force pressure on the gas.  Hmmmm, I don’t think this is safe anymore.  I dropped off my son on the way, and FINALLY, I was on the divided highway.  Aaahh, relief for my foot!   I could use the cruise control now.  With the constant pushing of “accel, accel, accel” on the cruise, I finally got the car up to the right cruising speed to finish getting us to our destination of her school.  By the time I got back home, I was in tears from the pain and the frustration.   I called my husband.  “I think it is time for the hand controls”.  Since then I have done little to no driving, and the loss of independence is disheartening.
 

The task of finding out how to go about getting hand controls has not been easy.  We finally found a facility that installs them, but not until I undergo a 4 hour assessment from an occupational therapist.  This therapist is about to go to therapy, a weird change of roles for me.  Early in my profession I too would assess head injured clients to see if they could be deemed safe to be drivers.  Now it is me in that “drivers ed” seat, being assessed for hand controls.  My evaluation is coming up this Friday.

One of the most difficult things has been to find out Georgia laws regarding evaluations and drivers training for such things. Do I need a doctor’s referral?  Will I be required to have a certain amount of hours of training?   We searched everywhere, and could only find laws on PARKING.  So in Georgia, I guess you can drive however you want, but you better be careful where you park when handicapped.  Go figure!  We found plenty of laws for other states, but none for Georgia.  We still are not clear about this. From what we understand, I will need to undergo the evaluation, and then it is determined if I will need further training from that point.  After the evaluation, I will then need a written prescription of what type controls I exactly need.  Then the appointment will be set up with the installers.  I have also called many times to see if a doctor’s prescription is needed with NO returned calls.  I will not be happy Friday, if I get there and they don’t have everything they need to proceed.  This whole process is not very clear cut, and very frustrating. 

 

I am not exactly jumping for joy with the thought of getting hand controls.  I want to fix me, not change the car.  I have said this hundreds of times.  However, for me to become more independent and drive safely once more, I know I need them.  Because without the use of the cruise or the dangerous use of my hand to apply pressure, I just can’t drive 55!

Thanks for reading.

You Gonna Use That Potty Spot?

I have gotten what a lot of people think they covet- a handicapped parking tag, or as my son used to say, “The Potty Spot”.  When he was just a toddler he went with me to the hospital where I worked.  There were handicapped parking spaces everywhere.  He always was, and still is, an inquisitive boy, and he asked hundreds of questions whenever we went anywhere.  I could see the wheels turning in that little brain of his.  He was staring intently at the handicapped parking places.  “Why are all those people going potty?”  “What?”  I responded, very confused.  “The people on those signs.  Why are they all going potty?”  Oh, now I understood.   Yes, the handicapped symbol does look like someone going potty.  Every time I see that symbol I think of that day.  Thus, I now have the desirable “Potty Spot.

It is a temporary tag and has an expiration date of March 31, 2011.  I feel in a way it is an expiration date for me.  It makes me feel stressed.   I have until the end of March to be back to normal.  Now, I know that is really not the case.  I know it can be renewed, but somewhere inside of me that is how I feel.  It has already been 4 months and in 4 more months I should be completely better.   Right?  Hmmm, not so sure about that.  In fact after posting my blog about staying positive, I have had one of my worst weeks recently both painfully and emotionally.  Instead of the now normal blowtorch feeling, I have felt I have been followed by a fire breathing dragon.   This has made me especially snippy and crabby.   I really need to listen to my own words of advice.   I have gone back and read my post many times over the past week to remember to stay optimistic.  

I requested my parking sticker after attending one of my son’s cross country race events.  There was no parking close by and I had to walk quite a ways to get there.  It totally exhausted me.  I felt like my legs had turned into rubber, like Stretch Armstrong.   They throbbed with pain, and were buckling from the fatigue.  To avoid that from happening again, my husband filled out an application for me.  I have had it for a few weeks, but I can’t bring myself to use it.  For years I, like many others I am sure, have thought I would love to park in one of those longed for spots.  No longer would I have to park a mile away from a super store’s entrance.     I would have that prime piece of real estate right outside the door.  Each time I have planned to use it though, for some unknown reason, the parking space right next to the handicapped parking has been available.  I mean EVERY time, without fail.  I choose the one equally close, in case someone who needs it more will have it still available.  But even if it was my only choice, I feel quite different about using it from what I thought I would.   I don’t want to use it; I don’t want to have a reason to be there.  If any of you are “Losties”, you may remember an episode where John Locke refuses to park his handicapped van in a designated accessible spot.  His response, “I don't have to park there! I can park anywhere I want!”  I think in a way that is how I feel.  No one can make me park there! 

 Luckily I have not had to use it yet; however, this week has reminded me that I am far from 100%.  I need to conserve my energy so I can do what errand I am there for.  My legs just won’t let me travel the distance I once did with them.  I definitely still need that as an option for me.   I am thankful that I am well enough to take the next spot when it is available.  Some people affected by Fluoroquinolones are not that fortunate and need those spaces so they can access their wheelchairs.  I am grateful I am not one of those people.   I am hoping that when the March expiration comes around I will not have to renew my parking tag.  After all, I really don’t want to have to go potty there.