My chickens came home to roost. After writing about senior drivers, my senior moment happened: I had my very first (and I hope my last) automobile accident.

At 4:30 p.m. on a recent Wednesday afternoon, I was in the right lane approaching the Maggie Valley city limits on the four-lane U.S. 276. Coming from the opposite direction was a school bus with caution lights flashing. The two cars ahead of me slowed and so did I. The first car in our line went past the school bus a little, then came to a sudden stop. The next car in line stopped short of the first one by inches.

I rear-ended the middle guy. Fortunately, I was then going so slowly that minimal damage was done.
My seat belt did not grab me nor did my airbag inflate. The gentleman in the middle vehicle was not injured. He was a real gentleman about the whole thing. His first words were concern for my condition. The only damage to me was a bumped knee. However, my pacemaker didn’t know that and was doing its best to compensate for my agitated state.

A police officer and the EMs, two very competent ladies, shepherded me through the next two hours of necessary checkout and completion of the many, many forms such an event seems to necessitate. We can be proud of these people who work to serve. They were not only polite and courteous, but projected an attitude of caring concern so important at a time like that. When Officer Franklin came to the ER to hand me that inevitable pink form, he did it with courtesy and a thorough explanation of what I should do and what I could expect next.

It smarts to know that when the American Safety Council pulls together its 2001 statistics about automobile accidents, I’ll be one of the numbers. In 1998, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration counted 37,083 fatal accidents (these are the latest statistics available). Drivers over 64 years of age accounted for 47 percent of these. True, my accident was a minor event in the statistical world, but becoming a driver who puts all others at risk is a horrifying thought.

OK, so much for the event. Now, what does this have to do with my previous column about senior drivers’ problems?

Just this. I am a senior. Now how do I walk my talk? I don’t have to do anymore than follow through the legal necessities to obtain and keep my driver’s license. That doesn’t cut the mustard though. I have made an appointment with my doctor for a physical. There are some questions that only he can answer. For example, are my reflexes where they should be to be a safe driver? Now what if the doctor’s answers come back indicating that I should curtail my driving or, worse, give up driving altogether? What will be my lifestyle options?

Like so many others, the automobile is currently the key by default to my independence and the maintenance of my lifestyle. We are trained from the time we are strapped into our car seats as infants to depend on the car. It gets from us our homes to most everywhere else we need to be. How to eliminate it from my life is going to be an exercise in a culture change as well as a logistical challenge. Here is just a short list of choices to be made:

° Home - Stay in the mountains or move to a more urban environment? This begs a multitude of issues concerning everything from the size of the kitchen to the height of ceilings.

° Automobile - Keep one and let someone else drive it or use public transportation?

° Grocery shopping - Try to live close to available stores and order from them or give up cooking (I love to cook).

° Gift shopping occasions - It’s so important to me as a grandmother. Order entirely from catalogues or organize all my requirements into one trip via public transportation to a shopping mall?

° Doctor/dentist visits - Public transportation seems the only answer to this one.

It is easy to see how the dollar signs can add up to compensate for having private automobiles. Does the cost of making all these changes equal the costs of owning and operating an automobile? If it works out to be equal, am I ready for that change?

I don’t know. All these choices will either be made by me or for me sooner or later. What I do know is that I want to make those decisions. I don’t want them made by default or by relatives.

Three elderly gentlemen met for lunch in their favorite café. One of them had recently married. The two friends of the newlywed started to question him.

“Zeb, she must be some good lookin’ woman.”

“Nope, she’s OK, but nothin’ special.” Zeb replied.

“Well, does she have a lot of money?” his other friend asked.

“No. We’ll get by if we’re careful, but we won’t be living high at all,” Zeb answered.

“Well, then, Zeb, why in the world did you marry her?” asked one of them.

Zeb grinned as he answered, “She can still drive.”

(Walkup lives in Haywood County)

 

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