Surviving Colorectal Cancer, Part 31
When Do You Know You’re Too Old to Drive Safely?
Am I too old to drive safely? Probably. I’m okay with that.
The question and answer came into clear focus when my son and I were talking on the phone about flying to visit him and his family for a week. He lives about an hour from the airport in a major USA city.
“I’ll pick you up at the airport the night you arrive,” he said.
“I don’t want to bother you,” I replied, “I’ve reserved a hotel room near the airport that night and rented a car starting the next day.”
“No, Dad,” he said. “I don’t want you to drive anymore. It’s not safe.”
What do you say to that?
He’s right. I know he is. So, I agreed to cancel the reservations. I can use the Uber app on my iPhone if my son can’t take me to some appointments while we’re visiting.
I’m three months shy of 81 and still recovering from advanced colorectal cancer. I have neuropathy in my feet, my legs feel heavy most of the time, my peripheral vision isn’t sharp, and my hearing is bad.
The last time I drove in the USA was a trip to San Diego before COVID-19 for our annual physical examinations. Cars whizzed around my slower pace and it was nerve-wracking for both my wife and me. Also, I misjudged the distance to the stopped traffic on a crowded off-ramp leading to a stoplight and almost rear-ended the car ahead. Maria screamed.
I’ve been driving since I was 13 or thereabouts, first on a tractor in fields on the family farm in Missouri and then in an aging pickup truck on narrow dirt country roads. I’ve had a driver’s license since I turned 16 and then graduated to driving Dad and Mom and my younger sister to church on Sunday in the family sedan.
Over the years, I’ve driven more miles than I can calculate. Driving to work every day for years and years. Taking three sons to school and sports activities. Driving on long family vacation trips. And driving by myself from Maryland to San Diego and back after I retired.
I had only one auto accident in all those younger years. But I’ve had a couple of close calls later in life, like the one in San Diego. And on the Baja peninsula in 2008, I entered a tight exit ramp too fast and skidded the rental car off the roadway. Fortunately, there was no traffic behind me, and I backed up and got back on the road.
Beginning with my cancer chemotherapy in June of 2022, Maria has driven me everywhere we go in Mexico. She has encouraged me to try driving again to practice driving before our upcoming USA trip.
One time a few weeks ago, I drove three blocks to the neighborhood ice cream store. A delivery boy on a motorbike startled me by zipping around me from my blind spot on the left side as I was turning left.
I’m very afraid of being blindsided by somebody on a motorbike or a bicycle, hitting them, and causing major injuries. So, I haven’t tried driving since then.
Last week, Maria encouraged me to go to Costco with her and she told me I could use one of those electric carts reserved for the elderly and infirm (see photo above). I was nervous about hitting one or more shoppers because the aisles were jammed with people not paying attention to an old guy on an electric cart.
Navigating cautiously, I didn’t hit anybody and bumped only one cart. No harm no foul, and I apologized to the shopper. The Costco experience made me think.
If I’m unable to operate a shopping cart safely, how could I drive a car safely?
Driving a car by myself in past years was the essence of freedom. I had the freedom to go where I wanted to go when I wanted to go, and without needing somebody else to take me. I miss that freedom.
I wish I could drive again, maybe just a leisurely drive in the countryside on a Saturday with Maria. But it’s not safe for me because there are many crowded Guadalajara streets between here and there with impatient drivers zipping around me.
Alain Suppini, a physician I follow on Medium, recently posted an article about aging asking when people get old. He also suggested ways to adapt. Here’s an excerpt:
“Aging is an inevitable part of life, but how we perceive and experience it can vary greatly. By challenging stereotypes, embracing positive attitudes, and creating supportive environments, we can redefine what it means to grow old.”
Giving up driving in my 80s is a major change for me but it’s time. I’m trying to cope by embracing a positive attitude. That includes agreeing with my son that it’s not safe for me to drive anymore.
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About me: In June of 2022, at age 78, I was diagnosed with Stage IIIc colorectal cancer. After five months of aggressive chemotherapy and radiation, I had successful surgery in January of 2023 to remove the tumor followed by successful surgery in May to reverse my colostomy.
Surviving advanced-stage colorectal cancer was like starting a new life. My oncologist and my wife both urged me to write about my experience as a catharsis and to encourage people to have colon cancer screenings. I began journaling every day, and to celebrate my 80th birthday in October of 2023 I began posting articles almost every week on Medium. I hope my articles will motivate people to have thorough colon cancer screening starting in their 40s and continuing past 75 and also help other colorectal cancer patients deal with everyday life while trying to survive five years or more.
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