Driving While Disabled.
When I was in the rehab hospital, I started to think about how to do all of the things I could do before, and one of the first ones to cross my mind was whether or not I could drive.
Turns out, I can, but only in short-ish bursts.
Before that, though, the thought of transferring to the car was an interesting proposition, and when I was a few days away from being released, we attempted it. With some careful instruction and a lot of trepidation, I learned how to transfer.
Assisting me in that process was this car cane from EMSON, that I got on Amazon. You just slip it in the little latch in the side of your door, and it works like a cane that helps you transfer from your chair to the car seat.
Now, I happen to be lucky, in that my left foot was the one amputated, which means I can still drive with my right foot. If, however, you have a right foot amputation, there are still modifications that can be made to get you back in the driver’s seat.
To find out where those modifications can be made in your area, the National Mobility Equipment Dealers Association website is a good resource.
I was a passenger in my own car for quite a bit of time after being released from rehab, and going home. Whenever we went anywhere, my wife drove, and I got steadily more competent with my getting in and out of the car.
So much so that I started to think about doing some driving myself…
When I went to my primary care physician, I asked whether or not that was something I’d be able to do, and he told me that I could drive if I felt comfortable.
I started out with some short runs to the mailbox with my son, who is a trouper when it comes to hauling my wheelchair in and out of the car. And then I worked my way up to a solo mission, when my wife loaded me up to head back to the doctor, where a friend was waiting to get me out.
At this point, I will also say that the ability I have to park in disabled spaces has been a godsend. When I first got home, we didn’t have a placard, and so I had to wheel and be wheeled through long parking lots and whatnot. It wasn’t terrible, but it is a little nervewracking to be suddenly so short in a lot full of cars who may not be looking in my direction.
Obviously, and unless my foot someday grows back, I will be permanently disabled, which means that the placards I got from the State of Texas reflect that.
I thought it would be difficult, but it was really easy. Of course, Dr. A, who was the doctor on duty at the rehab clinic, pre-filled out the paperwork for me to take to the local county tax office.
Here it is, if you need it. You can also take it to the DMV. You’ll need that doctor’s note, too.
For the permanent disability placards, there is no fee. I believe that there is a small fee to get temporary ones (pretty sure it’s $5), and I know there is to get a license plate, but I don’t know what it is.
As time has gone on, I’ve gotten into the habit of driving on occasion, trying to take on longer distances as I have. I feel pretty natural driving these days, and I look forward to having the prosthetic so I can, you know, get out of the car on my own.
Just know that, if you want to drive, it’s doable. And it’s not that difficult. It can be a little scary, but, just like everything else, if you plan and prepare, it should make it a lot less difficult.
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As always, if you have it in you, please give a thought to donating time or money to Hospice Austin. They do amazing work for people who are going through the hardest thing a person can face.
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