The last two weeks have marked some watershed moments for me. Some involved making lemonade out of lemons, some required spotting the silver lining in an exhausting week, and one of them – quite literally – meant finding my way home.
What should’ve been a straightforward procedure to treat Andrew’s common prostate issue turned into a seven day hospital stay. Because his discharge kept getting pushed back, a day at a time, I stayed with him the entire week. Thankfully I’m retired and self-employed, so that part was easy.
Andrew is intelligent, personable, funny, easy-going. He can talk to anyone and his humor lights up the room. What he isn’t is an especially good advocate for himself. To be fair, most people aren’t. So for seven days, I was hypervigilant, making sure nothing fell through the cracks. I built relationships with nurses who helped us navigate doctors who were not necessarily responsive. I stayed on top of his pain management schedule and monitored all his stats. I asked for what he needed assertively, respectfully, and relentlessly.
But my biggest challenge wasn’t supporting Andrew. My biggest challenge was driving us the 40 minutes home after he was released.
A little context:
Over the last couple years, following multiple medical procedures, I’ve developed some common, but unfamiliar anxiety issues. White coat syndrome – strong flight and, more recently, fight responses when I’m preparing for or attending a doctor’s appointment, and most unexpectedly, anxiety about driving.
After my retina partially detached in November 2022 requiring two repair surgeries, I wasn’t comfortable driving. I tried to start driving again several times, but the glare of the sun and shifting lights and shadows, my distorted vision, and aggressive, unpredictable Las Vegas drivers were too much. Then, came my breast cancer diagnosis and treatment – more surgeries and recovery. First, I couldn’t drive and by the time I could, I just didn’t feel like it. I’d found other ways to get where I wanted to go. I continued to put it off. I’d drive when I was ready, or when I had to – I didn’t really expect to have to.
Driving us home from the hospital was my first real “have to” moment. To my surprise, I had no anxiety. No distress. No fear. I took the highway part of the way and busy city streets the rest. When we pulled into our garage, I exhaled and let pride wash over me. I’d done it!
That night I realized that this was one of those moments when life hands me lemons and, without even thinking about it, I make lemonade. It wasn’t a moment I sought out or prepared for — it just arrived, unexpected, and I showed up. I came through. I did what needed to be done. I decided I didn’t have to drive again anytime soon, but I knew I could if I needed to.
The universe had other plans.
Over the next several days, I needed to drive, a lot. The day after Andrew‘s release from the hospital, I had to drive him back to the emergency room 40 minutes from our home. This time, I drove highways all the way through sometimes easy, sometimes heavy, almost stop-and-go traffic. Again, I was comfortable, calm, and secure the whole way. The next night, a late night ER run had me driving through dark city streets and road construction. I stayed calm. The following day I drove myself to my annual physical exam appointment. Then today I drove Andrew to and from another doctor’s appointment.
I guess I’m driving again.
More context:
For most of my adult life, driving has meant freedom. I love to explore. I love to be spontaneous and just get in the car and go somewhere. I also love to plan trips and visit new and exciting destinations. I love the freedom to go anywhere I want to go at any time. I didn’t realize losing that freedom was one of the quiet losses of the last few years.
Apparently the universe has decided I don’t need that fear any more. I’ve been surprised by my confidence and lack of anxiety while driving. I feel like this is a strong step toward regaining independence lost due to physical issue, after physical issue, after physical issue over the last three years. To be honest, i still feel some reluctance to drive, but every day it’s getting easier.
So where am I now?
I guess we’ll know when I cut loose on my first solo road trip. Until then, I’m happy with interstates, city streets, and trips to accomplish tasks and run errands.
In a very powerful way, I’m reclaiming myself, my independence, my freedom – one glass of lemonade, one silver lining, and one mile at a time.
Deborah's Deliberations 