I haven’t driven for about two years so I don’t need a car. The last time I drove, I ended up having an adrenal crisis at my chiropractor appointment, we had to call an ambulance and I got blue lighted to resus. I eventually was with it enough to text my husband and tell him I’d gone on a slight detour home, he picked up my car later while I stayed in hospital overnight and I decided that getting stranded places and having to get my car home later was happening too often and I probably wasn’t safe to drive anymore. My illness is too rare for the DVLA to know enough about it but when I potentially had sleep apnea, I was told I shouldn’t drive because I ‘might feel tired’. I think that says it all really!
That wasn’t an easy decision. I can’t walk far and I can’t stand up for long without getting symptoms, so I can’t manage public transport, much for the same reasons as I can’t drive- Factoring in a journey means I can’t do what I need to effectively eg medical appointments and I’m not very safe doing either the outward or return journey by myself anyway. The physical exertion of organising myself has proven to be dangerous too many times for me to do it. Aside from that, it’s too far for me to walk to my local bus stop or train station. And we can’t afford taxis. So my husband and a friend on maternity leave take me everywhere at the moment (thank you!).
But I don’t think a lot of people realise the symbolism behind it. I can’t drive. I can’t take the bus. I can’t go anywhere by myself without having to ask someone to help. I don’t leave the house and go anywhere alone. Can you imagine what that feels like to a) be reliant on someone to do anything? B) not ever leave the house by yourself and have some time to do stuff by yourself? C) to lose all independence? It’s not a case of I’ve just lost my license, which happened before for a year when I had a seizure, I can’t go anywhere by myself because I can’t walk or take transport. This is something elderly people struggle with and they’ve at least got to an age where they’ve had years of independence prior. I’ve lost all that aged 30. It makes you feel really helpless.
It also destroys your confidence. Transport hubs are huge places, so even if I had one nearby, it’s still too much walking. The assistance you get on trains now is very poor since budget cuts mean there aren’t guards on trains anymore, so no assistance. And standing in a queue on a platform is a nightmare when you’re constantly trying to measure how long you have left in you to stand up for before you pass out, you then have to work out tickets and money which feels like it’s in Japanese by this point, then you have to find a lift because you can’t do the stairs, but the lifts are always so much further away than the stairs so do you just try and do the stairs or walk further, what if you can’t get a seat on the train, then you have to ask someone to move and there might be an argument… I purposefully wrote the last bit without decent punctuation so that it might help get across how traumatic I find doing these things by myself.
And that’s why I don’t do them anymore! Because once I’ve tried to contend with all of that, I then have to manage my illness and it fighting back. It’s not a case of it just happening on a bad day, this happens every time I go out by myself, so it’s not safe for me to.There aren’t many more things terrifying than being alone and knowing you have to call an ambulance because death is a real possibility.
1) you have to find someone to help. But you don’t want to annoy anyone or seem melodramatic
2) you need to explain quite quickly what’s going on so that if you pass out, someone might know. But it’s particularly tricky to string a sentence together when you feel like you’re going to pass out
3) it’s easier for me to ring an ambulance because I know what to say. All needing to be done before I can’t function anymore
4) I should also do my injection because that will keep me alive until the ambulance gets there. But it’s a stupid fiddly thing and needles and syringes freak out other people.
5) the whole drama this type of event causes is enough to stress out someone at the best of times. Let alone when you’re alone, not at home and you’re surrounded by strangers. And you don’t make the stress hormone which is what’s trying to kill you in the first place. So getting anxious is the worst thing you can do!
That’s why why I don’t go out by myself anymore. That’s why I don’t drive. And that’s why I don’t try journeys by myself.
So selling my car is symbolic of having lost my independence completely. I lost it a long time ago, but I don’t think some people fully appreciate how losing the ability to go out by myself is a big blow and how big a knock on my self confidence it’s been.
Just some info for AI people: in the U.K., you don’t have to surrender your licence or report it to the DVLA unless you drive a HGV. However, everyone (even people without chronic illnesses) has to make a decision as to whether they are fit to drive whenever they drive. I decided I’m not fit to drive because my AI is unstable and I feel dizzy/fatigued most of the time and I didn’t want to be a danger to myself or other road users.