Today is the day we planned to begin our road trip. We had it all planned out. I’d mapped out the route and made motel reservations for each night. We’d written to each of the people we hoped to visit. Andrea had asked the post office to hold our mail. We took some of our potted plants to our son’s house so he could take care of them while we were away. I counted the pills in my prescription bottles to be sure I’d have enough for the trip. We planned our perishable food to run out this morning. I’d even written checks to pay our estimated taxes, even though they aren’t due until mid-June. We were ready.
Then, last Thursday evening, while I was driving us home from a long, enjoyable dinner with friends in town, I blanked out. Andrea shouted, “Kate! Watch out!” and I retook control of the car. It scared us both, but I got us home safely. We spent the next five hours with medical personnel, trying to figure out what happened, with no firm conclusions.
So now we stay home for followup appointments. And I’m reluctant to drive.
Over the weekend I’ve been through all the stages of grief. I’m a Detroit girl, who at ten years of age listed a Corvette at the top of my Christmas wish list. (Just to be clear: I had no expectation of getting a Corvette. My family didn’t have the money and neither I nor my parents were that foolish.) Driving is important to me. I know that in all probability I will have to give up driving at some point — I’m just not ready for that point to be now.
And after the long year of hiding in our house, we were ready to go. Did you ever watch a wildlife show where they capture a lion? When they’re ready to release it, they open the cage door, there’s a pause, and then the lion shoots out of the cage. That’s us, ready to shoot out of the cage.
But here we are, on pause once again. Still, I have much to be thankful for. We made it home Thursday night without hurting anyone or anything. We have a beautiful home to live in; not everyone is so lucky. I have a wonderful companion. And this morning I went for my walk and didn’t collapse on the uphill stretch. Life is good.
3 thoughts on “A Pause”
Loss seems to be accelerating these days. It creeps into my consciousness when I least expect it and then, like you, I shake my head and think about how extremely blessed I am at this moment. I’m so glad that you and Andrea are both safe and I hope for a reasonable and benign explanation for the blackout
Kate. Some thoughts. If I had stopped driving after each one of my cerebro-cardio-vascular events over the last 36 years, life would not have been worth living! You MUST get accurate, thorough, correct studies and diagnoses and effective treatment(s) to completely control and prevent recurrences. THEN you resume driving. Just like good confirmed and dedicated pilots do with flying! (I speak from my years of experience as an FAA certified AME-aviation medical examiner. Also as a CIME-certified independent medical examiner helping workers return to dangerous jobs.) Just sayin’. FORWARD! Joe
On Tue, Jun 1, 2021 at 11:04 AM Travels with Kate wrote:
> Travels With Kate posted: ” Today is the day we planned to begin our road > trip. We had it all planned out. I’d mapped out the route and made motel > reservations for each night. We’d written to each of the people we hoped > to visit. Andrea had asked the post of” >
I am sorry of what happened both of you and thanks to your start making you escape an accident on others as well as on yourselves.
I am sorry to leave the back seat with you but I am trusting there will be other possibilities soon for you to go and to make me visit USA!!!
After this long confinement it is possible that was some uncontroled emotion! I hope that is just a reflexe and nothing serious.
Care for you and keep us posted because now you are a part of our lives!
We wish the best for you, soon and with good friendly slapping behind your shoulder!!! LN