Wow! Finally!
Been holding my breath for weeks. Will I still be able to drive? Will a letter come telling me I must give up my licence? How will my wife and I get around, to shop, doctors visits, church, haircuts, visits to friends, my Saturday morning breakfast with an old buddy which we’ve done for years?
It all started with a letter instructing me to attend my doctor for a driver’s medical. I thought no problem; standard procedure when you’re the wrong side of eighty. Wrong!
No problem with vision, hearing, blood pressure, heart rate, breathing. But apparently my short term memory didn’t please the doctor.
Just so you know this is how they test you: At the beginning of the test the doctor reads out to you a number of words; I believe 10. Then you’re given the medical, which takes a few minutes, at the end of which you are asked to repeat the words previously read out to you. Well, I reckon I could only recall very few.
Another letter; this time from the government, instructing me I must attend a driver’s test. As it turns out this test, as far as I could see, has nothing to do with actually driving.
You’re sat in front of a small screen which has a couple of buttons; you’re told to press these buttons or push on parts of the screen to indicate where a word or tiny white light appears on the screen. Now I’ve been driving for over 75 years accident free and only one ticket. I’ve driven everything on wheels from motorcycles to eighteen wheelers. I’ve driven all over North America, Sweden, France, Japan. I crossed Canada many times in all kinds of weather. Never have I relied on a small screen or push buttons to get me safely to my destination and back.
Gosh, another letter! This one tells me I must have a driver’s test in a dual control vehicle. Wow! I get to be tested in a real car.
I’m going to get to drive around the streets of Penticton like a real person. The test lasts approximately half an hour. The tester, a nice young fellow, instructs where to turn, etc.
On our return to the testing station, I say, “Sure hope I didn’t scare you too much.” He laughed and said, “You did just fine, but I’m not supposed to tell you that.” You’ll hear from the office shortly.
Well, weeks go by and I hear nothing and I’m getting kinda antsy. Did I or didn’t I pass the test? Finally it comes, the dreaded letter.
Yeah! I did it! The old man is still allowed to drive and no further tests are required for two years.
But really, should a senior be made to wait weeks to know if he or she is still okay to drive?
Gosh!
Herb Moore, Oliver
