Dude, Where’s My Car?
A frightening recurring dream becomes reality
I paid my first visit to a new ophthalmologist last month. Her office was in the suburbs, in a sprawling office park of identical, square, red brick buildings surrounded by parking lots. To distinguish one building from another, they were cleverly named Building I, II, and III. I was looking for Building II. I followed the signs that pointed me to I and II. Then I saw only signs for Building I, so I followed them and eventually stumbled upon Building II. I parked and entered.
I emerged 90 minutes later with a new prescription, dilated eyes, and plastic sunglasses perched uncertainly over my regular eyeglasses. I remembered that I had parked at the end of a row, so I strode confidently across the lot to find…nothing. My car was not there. I looked at the ends of other rows and …still nothing. Panic descended on me, along with a powerful sense of déjà vu. “Oh no!” I thought. “It’s that dream, only this time it’s real!”
Swiftly followed by a second thought: “Damn! Is this dementia?”
I’ll return to that dream in a moment. But first, to cut to the chase, it is not dementia. It’s just my inherent disability when it comes to navigation. I get turned around easily; just ask my wife and kids, who have seen the proof on road trips. The basic problem this time was…
