The DMV
and Me
You’ll recognize the plot at
once. It’s a story as old as mankind and a path virtually all of us must
tread. I’m talking about getting older;
losing it; knowing what needs to be done but not being able to do it like we
used to. Of course it doesn’t happen
just once but again and again. Piously
saying “I’m only doing it for your sake” the nurse, the boss, the wife, the
friend each, in turn takes away a key, hides a bottle, revokes a privilege, or issues
an ultimatum. For some of us, such as
those with Parkinsons, the path is long and the take-aways are many. For those who die of sudden massive heart
attack or rapidly spreading cancer, there may not be time enough to understand
and appreciate the losses.
For me and the plot of this
little tale, the events began with discussions of when older people should stop
driving. Discussions at church, work,
support groups. Everyone has a personal anecdote or opinion. I noticed some people who would find it more
convenient to drive their own car rather than ride with me. When directly asked these people wouldn’t say
they found anything wrong with my driving.
Some of the people in the support groups I participate in proudly
announced one week that they had voluntarily given up driving only to admit
sheepishly the next week that there were just times when he or she HAD to use
the car. I began to wonder earnestly how
I would handle the crisis.
I expected my crisis to happen in
July since my drivers license needed to be renewed then, I thought I had dodged
the bullet when I successfully applied on-line for the renewal and received it
without question. According to the paper
I was good to go until 2018. Two months
later and over a week after my birthday, came a letter. Out of the blue the DMV informed me that they
wanted to carry out a reexamination of my ability to drive a motor
vehicle. It was, they informed me, for
“my safety.” From then on, everything
the DMV did was “for my safety”..
The first requirement was to get
my doctor to complete a 10 page medical summary. This was more extensive than I
ever recall completing. Fortunately I am
a Kaiser healthplan participant and their Customer Services department knew
exactly what to do. Shortly after the
DMV received the medical record I received notice of my in-person reexamination
appointment. Because the letter didn’t
say exactly what was going to be reexamined, I called. A technical assistant
assure me that the letter specified which test or interview I was being asked
to attend. When I assured her my letter
did not, she agree to pull up her records.
“Well,” she equivocated, “when they don’t say which one, I guess that
means you’ll get all of them. That
included a written test and a modified driving test. I would also be interviewed for 30 minutes by
a hearing officer to determine my state of mind and general cognitive
abilities. To this point it was all
pretty low-key with the idea that I may have to have a “restrictive license” or
take a remedial course. After all they’re only thinking of me.
It appears that some people do
well enough at this point that their license is stamped “OK” and they go on
their merry way. But I was just
beginning. I got to take the dreaded
“driving test”. The pressure ratcheted
up.
On the test date, I felt slightly
keyed-up but not uncomfortable. The
examiner was pleasant. The day was
beautiful. I was shown the test and told
that I could miss 20 of one group of maneuvers or only ONE of a small group of
critical errors. The pre-check of my car
and pulling out of the DMV parking lot went well. As the test progressed, I grew more and more
relaxed.
Pulling into the debriefing
parking lot, I sighed in relief thinking I had easily passed the test. Boy, was I wrong. The examiner lit into me like I had run over
5 kittens and a baby girl. According to
her, in less than 3 minutes I had committed over half the “critical errors”
possible and 5 more than necessary to fail the test. When I calmed down enough
to hear what she was saying it boiled down to my not looking over my shoulder
before lane changes and turns. I was
missing the blind spot. I certainly felt
I had been blind sided. I made an
attempt to explain my practice and the controversy regarding blind spots. That did not help my case as the examiner now
felt I wasn’t even TRYING to pass the test.
The next day, as expected I got a letter saying my driving privileges
were suspended immediately.
Feeling like I had been sucker
punched, I found it difficult to focus on my life, deal with my Parkinsons,
meet my obligations to others.
Fortunately, I have the most wonderful wife in the world who had already
made plans for dealing with this crisis.
She had introduced me to a man 6 or 7 years my junior who helped me copy
and fold the church newsletter. Where I
needed someone to do the heavy lifting Dave was there. Now Carolyn suggested that David could be my
driver while we “sorted out this mess”.
I knew that “this mess” could go on for weeks, months, or even years.
David has medical problems of his
own but also has a great attitude and a willingness to make things work out.
Although he would be getting paid as a driver, it meant some significant
sacrifice on his part. Instead of sleeping
until 8 or 9 each morning he had to get up at 6, eat breakfast, make his
lunch, and ride a mile and a half on his bike to be ready to drive me to my
scheduled activity. That activity might
be a 14 mile bike ride or collecting and counting the cash from the local
library lobby used book sales or a half dozen other things I’ve gotten involved
in. Overnight David was essentially
asked to volunteer for everything I had volunteered for. But he came through. So much so that in many cases no one knew
there had been a change in my mobility. I stayed involved in all my
responsibilities and activities.
With that pressure off, I could concentrate
on getting my license back. The friendly
folks at the DMV were more than willing to schedule another driving test for me
(although it was a month in the future) and they seemed absolutely delighted
that I was interested in a Special Instruction Permit which allowed me to drive
again as long as a driving trainer, licensed Occupational Therapist, or
licensed driver over the age of 25 was in the car with me. When I received my permit in the mail David
found that his driving duties were reduced at least by half. He had “graduated” from driver to
instructor. I checked out what training
programs were available for older drivers particularly inexpensive or free resources
on the Internet. I was especially interested in those areas where I had made so
many serious errors – lane changes and blind spots.
The next three weeks actually
went by quickly. It turned out that David was a silver lining in my stormy
cloud. Having David along with me also
provided a welcome change of pace. But I paid the price in loss of
privacy. Sometimes I felt like I was in
the middle of a logic puzzle with three canoes, three chickens, three cannibals
and three missionaries trying to cross a river without anyone getting
eaten. For example, I usually take two
older women to church on Sunday morning.
But I couldn’t pick up the women until
someone over 25 was in the car but David didn’t want to ride his bicycle on
Sunday mornings so he had to have someone else pick him up and bring him to our
house. Then we had to juggle walkers and
scooters and wheelchairs.
Two days before my second driving
test my neurologist called to schedule a routine appointment During this appointment the doctor (and
Parkinsons expert) made several references to my not being able to drive as my
condition develops. He couldn’t have lowered
y expectations more effectively if he had been hired to do that.
The first time I took the driving
test this summer I was confident and became more so until the examiner
punctured my balloon. This time I was
nervous and became more so as the test progressed. On the other hand, this
examiner was much more personable during the test than my first examiner. About
3 minutes into the test he said, “Mr. Loveridge, we’re humans, not owls. We’re not expecting you to turn your head 180
degrees to see your “blind spot”. Look
just barely past your shoulder like this (he demonstrated). But it’s good to see you’ve done your
homework.”
When the examiner told me I had
passed I was so shocked that I couldn’t think to ask what was next. . I had only 5 out of a maximum of 20 driving
errors and NO critical errors. I didn’t
dare ask if I had heard right. I had.
Still, I didn’t want to publish this until the actual stay of execution
(set aside of action) arrived in the mail.
It came with a built-in disappointment – I am automatically scheduled
for a review one year from now.
