One thing recently that I have found very handy are these little carts at the grocery. Not having good balance anymore and my stamina waning for long walks through the grocers, I have taken my place in the army of folks who drive through the store on motorized carts.
My first go-round on one of these has now become a deliciously hilarious memory for my sister Denise and I. You see I have not driven ANY VEHICLE in more than 14 years. Not sure when I gave up driving, but it was after I had a panic attack behind the wheel of my car while sitting at a street light behind a Ryder rental truck, and visions of the Oklahoma City Bombing filled my head and I literally could not move. They came and pried my white knuckled fingers off the wheel and then sat with me til I regained my composure. I resolved never to drive again. I did not think I could be trusted, and I might harm some other human being.
So I have been the passenger in vehicles for many years. A passenger who enjoys just looking at the scenery passing by. I am rarely if ever paying much attention to where I am going. I am not looking forward, I am looking side to side to see what I can see, and of course at this point in time, it is an ingrained habit.
I am now in this little motorized cart, and certainly it is not going that fast, but it is still a moving vehicle and at first, I pay attention, because I have never drove one, but it is simple enough, button forward is forward, button back is back, let go and it stops. I got this. But then, as I feel relaxed enough, I forget I am not merely a passenger, but driving this thing, and I am not paying that much attention to where I am going and my sister Denise is behind me trying to keep up and at the same time watching me come within inches of people and certain disaster. Also take into consideration that I am pretty much blind on the right side due to the cancer, and must turn my head almost completely to the right to see anything on that side, since the left eye is the only eye that sees things clearly.
I am now in the aisles with the large refrigerated units with people and doors opening this way and that, looking at all the golden cheesy goodies within, and suddenly I remember I am driving just in time to come within one inch of an old man standing at one of the doors. He looks down at me like I am the devil incarnate, and my sister and I both break out laughing as I apologize profusely. He probably thought we were both nuts.
I still have to remind myself continually that I am the driver, not merely a passenger. Denise still watches me pretty closely and she reminds me as well. There is an ornery side to me, however, that wishes I could just go nuts and run everyone down.