Tomorrow I am making my first visit to Tufts Medical Center for my first visit as a part of the computer random selection which chose my name as a member of the control group. The other group will continue with three days of chemotherapy which will require them to make three visits to Tufts every month.
It is also my first visit without one of my children accompanying me. Driving me wherever I wanted to go. I have begun driving locally, short distances to the grocery store, my bank, a small shopping mall, the only gas station in town that pumps gas. They are all a short distance from my home and can be accessed by lightly traveled back roads.
I must drive carefully and with intention, paying close attention to the possibility of an accident or taking a wrong turn and losing my way, or forgetting the way! The greatest challenge being to choose the right road that will take me where I want to go. There are three main highways that intersect in Lowell. Route 3, Route 93 and Route 495. All three are routes that I have traveled many times. Going north on route 3 goes to New Hampshire and the shopping area in Nashua, NH, Route 93 goes north to New Hampshire and the airport in Manchester, and Route 495 goes to Salisbury Beach in MA, Hampton Beach in NH and continues along the coast to the bridge that crosses into Kittery, ME. The first half of the bridge is in Massachusetts and the second half is in Maine! It spans an inlet of the Atlantic Ocean! I have driven to Kittery many times to enjoy shopping at the outlet stores and to enjoy a seafood dinner at the Weathervane.
Dean, Dawn, Kady and I decided to go there, looking forward to a seafood dinner and visiting our favorite stores for bargains. Dean was driving and, after some initial confusion about which way to go, asked if we should follow River Road to Route 93. I said, "Yes!" We passed several known sites to me, including the turn off to the airport, and I had a nagging feeling that we weren't on the right road. Dawn checked us out on her cell phone and announced that we were headed for Canada and needed to turn right in order to reach Kittery. I felt that it was my mistake (it was!) and apologized. But my apology didn't soothe the agitation that I felt about choosing the wrong highway and not recognizing my mistake. And driving back late that afternoon
I felt hurt and angry because no one paid attention to my directions which was totally irrational. I kept thinking that I have lived in this area for thirty years and have made this drive numerous times. How could I have made such an egregious mistake?
I have had several experiences of forgetting directions on how I should go. I have learned that I have to think the route through to the end. If I feel confused or in a hurry, I am very unlikely to remember the way to go.
Since Tufts is in Boston, getting there is the problem. The Lowell area does not have any drivers who volunteer their services to cancer patients. Most people that I know are employed full-time and not free to offer their services.
I am 78 and my friends, who are close in age to me, no longer drive in to Boston. I planned to take the risk of driving myself but my son thought it was very risky, a hazard to me and a hazard to other drivers on the road. I decided to take the train which ends at North Station in Boston and take a taxi to Tufts.
As the time grew near I became more and more anxious about going on the train. I had made the trip only once with Cheryl. By Sunday, my appointment was on Monday, I was overwhelmed by anxiety and called a limousine service.
It was the most expensive way to go but I was certain of arriving (barring an accident).
I arrived for my appointment on time to have an EKG and have the Lab Work done. Then I saw the new intern and finally, Dr. Sprague. I discussed the memory problems I am having and she assured me that they were common and will get better with time. She talked about the possibility of relapse and said that if everything continued to go well that relapse is highly unlikely after 5 years. In five years I will be 83! By that age my mother was in a nursing home! But perhaps I will be blessed with a few more years.
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