This tree is from my past. I took this picture not far from Hongnong, South Korea (where I was living at that time), in December, 2010.
Today was a bit of a milestone in Arthur’s post-stroke evolution / recovery. Lately he’s been becoming increasingly self-aware that some of the limitations he’s lived with are, in a sense, self-imposed: a kind of affective inertia. He had a consultation / annual follow-up with the headshrinkers at the Portland VA, the other day (via video call), while I was at work. And they planted in his mind the idea that he could or should be doing more – staying more active.
Of course, this has been suggested before. But this time, for whatever reason, the advice stuck. I suspect that it being someone new and different making the suggestion, and not the same old voices, helped.
One thing that came up as Arthur and I discussed the call later was that he wanted to drive to town. That, in turn, brought us around to what I’ve told him many times before: his driving, specifically, makes me feel unsafe. This is not because of lack of skill, but rather because of his seemingly stroke-related attentional issues: twice that I remember, when I let him drive a few times two years ago, he got distracted while attempting to multi-task and essentially forgot that he was driving. Once, he was trying to adjust his iPod that he was using for listening to an audiobook, and another time, he was trying to break off a piece of chocolate that he was trying to eat. And those times were scary. So my point being: it’s not his driving that makes me feel unsafe, it’s his refusal to avoid trying to multi-task while driving that makes me feel unsafe, because these days, his ability to multi-task frankly sucks.
But I don’t want to limit him. So I said that while I wouldn’t ride with him, I wasn’t going to prevent him from driving somewhere if he wanted to. It’s the same thing I’ve said about his going out in the boat: while it makes me somewhat worried or uncomfortable, I’m not going to try to prevent him. I’ve essentially given up on my supposed role as “safety officer.”
I really don’t want to be a “control freak” – Arthur actually used that term about my behavior, which wounded me pretty deeply. And that’s not to say the term is entirely inaccurate. But then, he’s been wounding me a lot, lately. I suppose that’s his way of taking back control of his own life to a greater degree. It is not my intent or desire to begrudge him that.
So all of this, above, is preamble to the following: he drove to town today on his own, and did his weekly shopping and library visit by himself.
And apparently he survived that. That’s good.
I had the somewhat depressing insight that it made me feel useless. I’m not the safety officer anymore, having abrogated that job in protest, so what, exactly, is my role here, now?
I wish I had more financial independence. I could move out.
[daily log: walking, 1.5km]
Glad to hear he and apparently everyone else in town survived his outing.
Your situation reminds me of the advertising campaign … “Friends don’t let friends drive drunk.” Does it imply we’re not being friends when we don’t take people’s keys away when we know it might be wise, but likewise know it will cast a long-lasting dark cloud on the friendship (and perhaps that person’s mental well-being) because of the other person’s inability to correctly assess the situation? At least you live in such a small town that probably everyone knows Arthur’s vehicle and limitations and knows to drive warily in his vicinity. 😉
Makes me look forward to the days when we, as elderly, will presumably have the luxury of autonomously driving vehicles to get us safely around.