I drove around the St. Boniface Catholic Church parking lot a couple of days ago.  Very big day for me and Tom.  

Tom drove me over.  I hobbled around to the driver’s side of the car.  Pushed my seat back as far as possible so I could undo the 4 velcros on my Darth Vader boot and wrestled it off.  Wiggle-wedged my still swollen foot into an old comfy leather mule…checked my seat belt…adjusted the mirror…smiled at Tom and put my foot on the accelerator of our humble ’94 Geo Prism. 

Whooopeee!  Like being 15 again and getting my driving permit.

I practiced a little.  Accelerating and slowing.  Did a few doughnuts.  Reminded Tom that this parking lot is exactly 1/3 of a mile around it…I know that because I used to walk it for exercise.   He was more impressed that I was driving than the fact that I used to walk.

Both things impress the crap out of me. 

Mostly, I was checking out my tolerance for pain in a bootless foot.  There was just a twinge, but nothing that will keep me from DRIVING.

I can DRIVE now.  What a gift.

Not sure yet where I can go without my chaperone helping me here and there and carrying my purse…

I guess I could go to Super Walmart, but it would be park, take crutches to the motorized cart, figure out how to detach it from the wall, arrange my crutches across my lap and my purse between my feet…then roll around the store trying not to hit or be hit by anyone (especially in the produce department – that’s where all the psycho crazies hang out).  Find my little items.  Can’t carry a gallon of milk with crutches or buy anything frozen; it would be thawed by the time I got home.  Pretty tough to see into those open fridge and freezer cases anyway…you know, like the ones that hold the eggs.  Roll through the check out.  Pay my bill and then try to figure out how to get my stuff from the cart to the car without falling down on overbalanced crutches.  Seeing as how you have to leave the cart by the red pillars on the sidewalk.  They won’t let you motor through the parking lot on those things.  Maybe I should ask a fresh-faced stock boy to help me.

Just writing all this makes me tired.

Do we take a lot for granted?

I have a friend who has been diagnosed with ataxia.  Ataxia is a neurological issue that causes the loss of coordination.  My friend has lost some of her ability to walk and talk.  She hasn’t driven for awhile.  Her speech is slurred.  Even typing a few words requires a Herculean effort.  She writes me to thank me for expressing the frustration of having such obstacles to overcome just to do the simple things.  

She’s so young.  Just my age.  My heart goes out to her even more since my surgery. 

Don’t we take too much for granted?

*****

“To attain knowledge, add things every day. To attain wisdom, remove things every day.” — Lao Tzu