There were thirteen of us in the Zoom room for our March 5 meeting to talk about driving. We had a lot to talk about. We’ve all made adjustments and concessions, some of us through self-imposed driving limitations. The majority of us, however, are not driving at all. Thanks to everyone for your insights and the generous sharing of your experiences.
Those of us who no longer drive shared why we gave it up.
“I was at the store and needed to make a left turn at the light to exit the parking lot. I waited four light cycles, unable to turn left. I blacked out and when I came to, I felt the car being pushed. I hit another vehicle. My car was totaled and I stopped driving.”
“I almost hit a pedestrian in a parking lot. Fortunately they weren’t hurt. I stopped driving after that. It wasn’t worth the risk.”
“I haven’t driven since I hit a balustrade and took out the front quarter panel on my car.”
“I haven’t driven in about a year-and-a-half. I developed orthostatic hypotension and was afraid I’d black out while driving.”
“I gave up driving early into my diagnosis. I don’t go out much—events and people come to me. I have orthostatic hypotension and don’t go any farther than my yard alone. I always was an introvert, so I don’t mind being home. It must be hard for people who are extroverts. Tiredness has changed my need to be with people too. I enjoy my alone time more.”
“I miss driving. I miss the independence. I’ve had other health issues, which are getting better, but I was passing out and couldn’t drive. I celebrated feeling good and went by myself to the grocery store. I look forward to driving again but will stay close to home.”
“My husband asked me politely to stop driving. He was worried about my ability to make last minute decisions while behind the wheel. I didn’t care that much about driving. I like being driven around.”
Those of us who limit our driving shared our apprehensions and adjustments.
“I still drive, but I don’t drive on highways if I can help it. Before I had DBS, dystonia kept me from driving. It would hit suddenly and without warning.”
“Near the end of the pandemic, some of us met for lunch. It was so great to be together and see everyone for the first time in a long time, we lingered for a while after we were done eating. I hadn’t driven very much due to the pandemic, so was completely caught off guard by how exhausted I was driving home, to the point of not feeling safe. These days I limit driving to a three mile radius of my house.”
“I drive very occasionally. Conditions have to be perfect. The sun is out. It’s a clear day. I’m not tired. My eyes are working well. My meds are working well. I have to feel it’s a good day. I had a bad experience once. I lost track of time. It was dusk when I started driving home and I couldn’t see well. My blood sugar was low. My dopamine level was low. I felt like I would pass out. I pulled over to the side of the road and called my husband even though I was only a mile from my house.”
“I can’t drive when someone else is in the car with me. It’s too distracting. I only drive by myself and I don’t drive outside my comfort zone. I miss not being able to pick someone up to go somewhere together.”
Additional driving observations and thoughts.
“I don’t want to feel like I’m imposing. You can’t do something or go anywhere unless someone comes to get you—and you can’t reciprocate.”
“I don’t get out much. I have a couple of friends who come together to see me at my house. I can’t cook. My husband does everything.”
“Even when I’m not driving, if I do more than one thing a day, I need a nap.”
“Staying in your lane when turning onto two lanes is hard. Driving in parking lots can be hazardous. Backing up is difficult.”
“I am dependent on other people. If I need to take my cat for an emergency vet visit, I have to find someone to drive me. It hurts to have my cat dependent on me and not be independent.”
“I get my grandkids to drive me places now that they have their licenses. It’s a great way to spend time with them one-on-one.”