The DMV and Me

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.