Home Stories--Varicose Veins and Foot Care By Budgie

When my DD (Dear Daughter) was learning to drive, our family went through the usual process: Hubby would take her to the nearest empty parking lot to practice, she took driving lessons from the local Student Driver place, and I went with her to practice driving around the neighborhood—ummm…once.  At one time during all this driver ed.  phase, Hubby had to drop off the water bill in the evening.  Our little city has a beautiful street one block off the main street which is Kansas Ave.  It is a wide street with courtyards, library and small museum on one side and across from those are meeting rooms, the old water department and connected around the corner--our downtown fire-station—a true baroquely beautiful building. You can park by just turning in slantwise.  There are shade trees, benches, a huge crosswalk and the water dept. has a little night drop slot.  Hubby and DD set off and they returned rather quickly.  Hubby walked into my sewing room.  He was pale and shaking and mumbling—“Never again---never again…”  “What happened?!”  “She just missed the lamp post and went up onto the sidewalk and almost destroyed the water department!—Then she ran a red light on the way home!  She can’t see anything while driving in the dark!! The lights blind her!  All I could think of just now as I got out of the car was—I’m alive!”  This incident became a family story and “I’m alive” became a phrase for anyone arriving home after any hair-raising ride.

   You must understand that the DD is not a reckless driver and follows all driving laws.  She does not speed, wears her glasses, and is very conscientious.  She has had few accidents and has only totaled one old car, which fortunately was built like a tank; and when she drove head on into a pickup (the kind that are up on giant tires and was at a dead stop and being driven by the owner’ daughter’s boyfriend), so only the car was hurt.  There was the rear-ending of a car on the notorious overpass that splits in two---left you go east—right you go west—straight you go over the barriers and fall bazillion feet to your death.  The local cops were so glad no one was hurt, they didn’t give anyone tickets. They just wanted the lane cleared as it was rush hour and the entire population of one end of the Valley rushes home to the other end and vice versa.  There was another one that took out the front-end, hood. And windshield of her current little car; but that was totally not her fault as it is hard to dodge a falling cable from a crane while driving through highway construction. 

   But riding with the DD is another matter.  The DD has a dyslexic problem (she can’t spell) and nystagmus problem (blurring due to her eye muscles jerking her eyeballs back and forth).  She does not read street signs very well and thus navigates by landmarks instead.  Since my hubby’s knee surgeries has prevented him from driving for any distance, the DD has greatly improved her driving skills hauling her dad around and with the hubby navigating and screaming when to turn she even made it to San Antonio and back several times.

     The DD lately has also had to take me to my doctor appointments.  Fortunately, our little city has a very nice hospital and there are various doctor offices and labs all around it; and it is near our home.  We live on 7^th street, so it’s easy for her to just turn up one block to 8^th street, and except of some stop signs and one stop light it’s a straight shot to our family doctor.  The foot doctor is in the same area, but one long block off of 8^th on Utah street.  Utah St.—the sign-- has only four letters and should be easy to read, but it is a normal sized street sign.  The DD has taken me there several times but she still gets lost---I know this because when she picks me up she is coming from the opposite direction.  Meaning she missed the turn and had to hunt for the office and also because the following always happens: “Do I turn here?”  “No, that’s an alley.”  “Here?” “No, that’s a parking lot.”  “Here?” “No, that’s a pharmacy---turn there!”  I take my aching white knuckled hand from the shoulder strap of the seatbelt and frantically point to a big sign with foot-high lettering just at the corner of 8^th and Utah---Varicose Veins.  After the turn, she slows down, “Keep going.”  She slows down again….”No, that’s Renal Therapy—hmmm, when did that open up.”  “Here?” “No, that’s Pain Management.  Turn at Foot Care!”  Love that big sign, and also no more buildings, just brush and a curving street to another set of offices a block away. 

   An hour later, the DD comes back to collect me---from the opposite direction---sigh…lost again.  We turn onto Utah street at the Footcare sign and she says, “Mom, want to go get McDonald’s for lunch? I’ll have to stop at the bank though.”  A vision almost blinds me---there are 3 ATM’s she could drive to. There are 2 McDonald’s—one at the Freeway!! and Texas Ave.; one at the old expressway and the road to the International Bridge!!---all of them across town….I recover and with not a tremble or a whimper I say, “Just take me home, dear, it’s too early for lunch.  You can get McDonald’s for us later though.”  “OK, mom.” The DD turns onto 8^th street at Varicose Veins.  I say a silent Thank You to the sign and later as I sink into my big comfy chair and get my feet up, I also say to myself, “I’m alive!”