Dlly's Story
This is not a make believe story. What I am posting really happened to me.
***
Morning started at 5:45 a.m. He didn’t know why we were getting up so early or why we had to get lab tests done at the hospital. We made it through dressing and not eating or drinking anything before the tests. When we started to leave, I told him I would drive.
He said, “No. I can drive.”
Before we got to the highway, he asked, “What car do you drive?”
“I drive this one,” I replied. “We both drive this one.”
He asked, “Why do you drive this one?”
“Because it’s the only car we have,” I told him.
“This is mine and Julie’s car. Who are you?”
By this time we had turned onto the highway. Several miles down the road, halfway to La Luz, he slammed on the brakes and pulled the car onto the shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” I asked in alarm.
“Nothing,” he said. “I just want to know what’s going to happen?”
“What do you mean?”
”I mean, I want to know what’s going to happen.”
“Well, for one thing, you’re going to get hit or hit somebody if you keep this up.”
“No, I’m well off the road. But, what’s going to happen? And, where’s Julie?”
“I’m Julie,” I said. “This is me. I’m you’re wife.”
“No, you’re not,” he insisted. “And, you’ve been lying to me. You’ve been conning me. Now, what’s going on? Where are we going?”
I tried explaining again the situation and he pulled back on the road to continue on.
When he passed the traffic light on Scenic Drive, I asked if he planned to turn down Indian Wells.
“I don’t know where I’m going to turn. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
Now, I don’t have to tell you that my heart is beating triple time and if I didn’t have high blood pressure already, this would give it to me. The traffic light at Indian Wells was green and he went straight down the highway.
“You just passed Indian Wells. That’s where you need to turn to get to the hospital.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but it wasn’t easy. “Turn down one of these side streets and we can get back on the right road.” When he didn’t listen, the panic emerged. I yelled, “Turn down this street, that street, any street! Just turn onto one of these streets!”
Something worked, because he turned. He drove east until we came to Florida. I tried to have him turn left to get back on Indian Wells, but he kept going straight. “We can even stop at the doctor’s office if you want,” hoping the suggestion might help. It didn’t.
“Why go to the doctor. He’s in on this conspiracy, too. In fact, he started it.”
Finally, at Oregon, he had to make a turn. As it happened, there is a park at Oregon and he pulled into one of the convenient pull-ins. He was driving very slowly, so I opened the door and told him to stop. I was getting out and would walk. He saw I was getting out, so he slowed to a stop. I walked up on the grass to an old metal picnic table and sat down to get my breath and let my heart rest a moment. Then I started walking down a pathway toward the end of the park. He finally drove back onto Oregon to Indian Wells and turned right, toward the mountains. I pulled the cell phone from my purse and called the doctor’s office. It was too early for his office hours, so I dialed 911.
To make a long story short, two officers responded in short time at the intersection of Dewey Lane and Oregon. He was making the second pass by and one of the officers stopped him. He talked to him awhile, got him out of the car, got him to hand over his keys, then brought him to where the other officer stood with me. They said they would help us get to the hospital. One officer would take him; the other would take me. When the officer with him drove around the corner, the other asked if I could drive. I said that I could, so he handed me the keys.
“You drive to the hospital and I’ll follow you. That way, you’ll have the car when you’re through.”
The rest of the procedure went smoothly. I don’t know what the officer told him, but he was quite mild from then on. So, you can see that our day didn’t go very well and I’m glad it’s over. Once again at home, I felt almost safe again, but I know this is just the beginning and I have no clue what looms before us. For sure, I will not…repeat, will not…be getting in a car again with Jim as the driver. His driving is bad enough, but those episodes of Alzheimer’s, dementia, or whatever is when he is behind the wheel is more than I care to experience again.
posted by dlly1935
***
Morning started at 5:45 a.m. He didn’t know why we were getting up so early or why we had to get lab tests done at the hospital. We made it through dressing and not eating or drinking anything before the tests. When we started to leave, I told him I would drive.
He said, “No. I can drive.”
Before we got to the highway, he asked, “What car do you drive?”
“I drive this one,” I replied. “We both drive this one.”
He asked, “Why do you drive this one?”
“Because it’s the only car we have,” I told him.
“This is mine and Julie’s car. Who are you?”
By this time we had turned onto the highway. Several miles down the road, halfway to La Luz, he slammed on the brakes and pulled the car onto the shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” I asked in alarm.
“Nothing,” he said. “I just want to know what’s going to happen?”
“What do you mean?”
”I mean, I want to know what’s going to happen.”
“Well, for one thing, you’re going to get hit or hit somebody if you keep this up.”
“No, I’m well off the road. But, what’s going to happen? And, where’s Julie?”
“I’m Julie,” I said. “This is me. I’m you’re wife.”
“No, you’re not,” he insisted. “And, you’ve been lying to me. You’ve been conning me. Now, what’s going on? Where are we going?”
I tried explaining again the situation and he pulled back on the road to continue on.
When he passed the traffic light on Scenic Drive, I asked if he planned to turn down Indian Wells.
“I don’t know where I’m going to turn. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”
Now, I don’t have to tell you that my heart is beating triple time and if I didn’t have high blood pressure already, this would give it to me. The traffic light at Indian Wells was green and he went straight down the highway.
“You just passed Indian Wells. That’s where you need to turn to get to the hospital.” I tried to keep my voice calm, but it wasn’t easy. “Turn down one of these side streets and we can get back on the right road.” When he didn’t listen, the panic emerged. I yelled, “Turn down this street, that street, any street! Just turn onto one of these streets!”
Something worked, because he turned. He drove east until we came to Florida. I tried to have him turn left to get back on Indian Wells, but he kept going straight. “We can even stop at the doctor’s office if you want,” hoping the suggestion might help. It didn’t.
“Why go to the doctor. He’s in on this conspiracy, too. In fact, he started it.”
Finally, at Oregon, he had to make a turn. As it happened, there is a park at Oregon and he pulled into one of the convenient pull-ins. He was driving very slowly, so I opened the door and told him to stop. I was getting out and would walk. He saw I was getting out, so he slowed to a stop. I walked up on the grass to an old metal picnic table and sat down to get my breath and let my heart rest a moment. Then I started walking down a pathway toward the end of the park. He finally drove back onto Oregon to Indian Wells and turned right, toward the mountains. I pulled the cell phone from my purse and called the doctor’s office. It was too early for his office hours, so I dialed 911.
To make a long story short, two officers responded in short time at the intersection of Dewey Lane and Oregon. He was making the second pass by and one of the officers stopped him. He talked to him awhile, got him out of the car, got him to hand over his keys, then brought him to where the other officer stood with me. They said they would help us get to the hospital. One officer would take him; the other would take me. When the officer with him drove around the corner, the other asked if I could drive. I said that I could, so he handed me the keys.
“You drive to the hospital and I’ll follow you. That way, you’ll have the car when you’re through.”
The rest of the procedure went smoothly. I don’t know what the officer told him, but he was quite mild from then on. So, you can see that our day didn’t go very well and I’m glad it’s over. Once again at home, I felt almost safe again, but I know this is just the beginning and I have no clue what looms before us. For sure, I will not…repeat, will not…be getting in a car again with Jim as the driver. His driving is bad enough, but those episodes of Alzheimer’s, dementia, or whatever is when he is behind the wheel is more than I care to experience again.
posted by dlly1935
