“Shall We Drive? Shall We Dance?”
Imagine the limitations in the life of someone who has cognitive impairment. Let me help you to envision two of the changes.
As I was thinking about writing a chapter about Hubby’s relationship with automobiles and driving, my flitting brain jumped to the words: “Shall we drive?” which reasonably morphed to the spectacular song from The King and I, “Shall we dance?” I cannot get the melody out of my head and know that I must connect the two questions somehow.
Hubby has not really driven a car since we closed our business in Los Angeles and moved to live between London and Jerusalem. We owned three vehicles in Los Angeles because we needed them for business and traveled substantial distances between our retail stores and home. I was thrilled to divest our lives of all the aggravation associated with owning automobiles.
Still, Hubby was committed to keeping his British driving license valid even when the American one expired. He regularly asked me to check its expiration date and was concerned he might be too old to renew. In the U.K. it was not a problem unless a doctor blocked your permission. That did not happen, but then, the only way Hubby could have driven was to rent a car. Car ownership in the center of London was extremely difficult and the costs of parking were astronomical. When we went on trips in the U.K., we discovered that new rules put in place blocked the elderly from renting from most car-rental companies, so the license became even less useful to him. It was a matter of pride, not practicality.
Even today at the age of 95, Hubby asks where his license is, as if he is about to fly the coop and embark on an adventure on his own. To tell him that he is too old to drive, would not be a pleasant task, and hopefully can be avoided.
As I give advice online to families around the world with a loved one who has dementia, one of the most frequent discussions is whether to allow these individuals to get behind the wheel of a car. If you knew that someone who was driving you to the grocery store had a hard time processing information and the essential cues that a driver must understand before making decisions to turn, slow down, or stop quickly, would you want to be their passenger? Do we not have an obligation to the other drivers on the road to make their experience driving a safe one? If our loved one causes an accident and there are injuries or fatalities, should we simply say “I am so sorry?” Do we not bear some responsibility if we neglect to stop someone in our care from harming others? Perhaps these are easy questions to answer, but not so simple to achieve.
Driving means freedom. If you can leave your home, get into your car and escape, the world is your oyster. Dementia patients in the early years of the condition are often still driving, and unwilling to give up their keys to independence. This is a serious problem for family members and for the rest of us using public highways. The sooner they can be convinced to hand over their keys, the better for us all. Oftentimes, it requires repeated problems before families face this problem. For example, they: a) might be unable to remember where they parked the car; b) they might forget where they are going and get lost while driving ; c) they may not see an approaching vehicle or person in a crosswalk in time to process their needed response. Any of these incidents should be sufficient for the family to demand the end of access to the vehicle and public roadways. This is not easy to achieve at times.
Keys might need to be hidden, cars parked where the loved one cannot find them, vehicles sold, or doctors asked to advise the department of motor vehicles that the individual is now unsafe on the roads. Family members are often unaware of how much danger there is when a driver with dementia is behind the wheel. I am here to remind them!
My Hubby can neither drive, nor dance anymore. He is unstable on his feet, which is often an issue with this condition. Certainly, Hubby’s age also contributes to his instability, and it is often hard to know where one condition stops and another begins. Younger patients with dementia may love to dance and be up to the task. Hubby constantly asks either Violet or myself to dance with him. It is quite impossible because he is weak and unstable. The soul wants to dance even when the body is unable. Hubby asks us daily if we will dance with him. Much like the driver who is unwilling to give up one of the great joys of life, Hubby too does not understand that what he wants is quite dangerous for him now.
It has been suggested to me that there are walkers which have seats on them, and wheels which swivel. We would be able to seat Hubby in one of them and dance with him in a seated position. Knowing Hubby, this solution would never suffice. When he says he wants to dance, he really wants to hold a lovely lady in his arms once again and glide around the room in time to the music. Making Hubby happy is not so easy these days, but we aim to please just the same.
So perhaps there actually is a connection between driving and dancing after all!
