My buddy, Martin, took me to sunny Carshalton for a driving assessment yesterday.
He reserved the whole day for me basically, and it took a whole day!
I was interviewed, my reactions were measured, my mobility assessed, my eyesight checked, you name it.
I got into an adapted car about an hour later. You steer with your left hand holding onto a knob fixed to the steering wheel, and accelerate/ brake with a handle on the right side.
Trust me, it’s hardly modern engineering at its best,more something your metalwork teacher might have knocked up in his lunchtime.
There was a little ‘track’, some juctions, and some cones.
I had to negotiate all the above and reverse park too between two other cars. That last bit I did, expecting to wreck at least one of them…
However, I ‘passed’ with flying colours, it would seem.
They’ve obviously had some bad drivers there before me!
I’ve never cared about cars, or been in any way macho about driving. It didn’t thrill me to drive, but it’s a thing I need to do to buy me freedom, give me independence and enable me to reduce my parasite status.
It’ll enable me to give my girls lifts, and empower me to contribute.
I’m not obliged to have lessons before I hit the roads, which surprises me, but there you go.
As far as actually getting a car is concerned, that’s far from straightforward.
The Government Motability scheme is in disarray – as the millions that are claiming to be disabled are all being reassessed. I’ve joined the back of the queue.
It may be many months before I get something, and may have to buy a car myself and have it adapted, only to sell it again once I’ve qualified for a Government sponsored vehicle.
Going back to work isn’t really an option until I can get there under my own steam, as it were.
Last night I went to watch the boxers train again – they’re all looking a lot fitter than before – and no wonder, Lee and Ali are properly beasting them!
Wish I was fighting … Tho not from a wheelchair.
Then we went out for dinner, the bad acoustics there really bringing home my lack of voice volume. I could only really be heard by someone sitting next to me. It makes me feel socially inadequate, frankly.
I can’t say I’m enjoying being disabled.