How Do You Drive?

I’ve explained that flying is easy and walking is difficult. Well, driving is tough, too. Riding in a car is more difficult than driving, because when I drive I have my hands on the wheel. That feedback helps my proprioception (knowledge of where I am in space). And, it depends on where I drive.

Here, in the Boston area, we have very curvy streets, so you need to know where you are going. You cannot depend on using normal directions. You see, we have no grids. Oh, we have one small grid in Boston’s Back Bay. That’s the only place where you can say North, South, East, West, and have it mean something. Otherwise, those directions are meaningless.

The inner highway loop around Boston has a very famous area, where you are simultaneously traveling South on Rte 128 and North on Interstate 93. Yes, you are physically on the same road. That leads to several entitlement feelings on the part of Boston-area people:

  1. We have the God-given right to drive wherever the heck we want to.
  2. We have the God-given right to walk wherever the heck we want to.
  3. If you do not make eye contact with a driver, you have the right of way.
  4. If the yield signs going into the rotary are faded, they don’t count.

This means you need to be a simultaneously aggressive and conservative driver. Aggressive because otherwise you get nowhere. Conservative because otherwise you get hit. To be aggressive and conservative, I need to turn my head. This does not play to my strengths.

Before my hemorrhage, I loved driving. I especially enjoyed the feeling when I had a full tank of gas. I felt as if I could go anywhere, do anything. The possibilities were endless.

Now, driving is uncomfortable. Since I’ve been BrainPorting, it’s gotten easier to see, both straight on and turning my head. My vision doesn’t bounce as much either way. But it still bounces, and the longer I drive, the more it bounces.

I can drive for a few hours at a time. I have. I pay for it. I stagger when I get out of the car. I sleep for an extra 2-3 hours that night and for the next few nights. And, when I ride, I fall asleep. Mark doesn’t have to tell me to take a nap; I just fall asleep.

Flying is much easier.

2 thoughts on “How Do You Drive?

  1. Cynthia Hardy

    I can’t begin to tell you how good it makes me feel to hear someone else describe the same thing I feel when riding in a car as a passenger or being the driver. I look like a drunk exiting a car. I paid a big big price when my family talked me into a 10 hour drive to the beach. Even though I was medicated, I could not walk for over 24 hours. Yes, driving or riding short distances is all that I can do. My vestibular problems came after an endolymphatic shunt procedure for probable meniere’s that went horribly wrong. A piece of bone that was drilled away went through the dura covering of my brain, and into my brain tissue in the temporal lobe area. I had a big spinal fluid leak and bleeding after the surgery. A year later I developed seizures because of “scarring” of my brain. The seizures are called “epileptic vertigo” and have been impossible to control. So thank you for this blog. I have been dealing with the wierd eye stuff for over 10 years. I AM NOT ALONE! God bless you!

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