The Talk

After concluding the neurological tests to determine dementia, including the driving test, the neurologist concluded that my dad has mild to medium dementia. She prescribed Namenda. So much for something stronger to help with his personality.

Although my dad failed the cognitive assessment driving test, he still wanted to drive. The neurologist told him he'd have to pass an actual in-the-car driving test (called a DORE for Driveable On-Road Evaluation) before she would sign off on clearing him to drive again.

Today he's taking one of those tests. I need to explain to him that he doesn't see well enough or respond fast enough to be safe behind the wheel. I need to have the conversation with him. But I'm on the phone 1500 miles away and he has dementia. These are facts, but also excuses.

I managed to have a moment of insight a couple weeks ago when mom mentioned someone's name on the phone and the light bulb went on in my head and I realized this person would be a good friend to drive my parents around when they needed it. I called him and he said he'd be glad to. He also said my dad is one of the most stubborn people he's ever met. So I told my dad that his friend could drive him if he didn't like the way mom drove. But my dad wants to get behind the wheel.

A Minor Catastrophe

It’s a few weeks later. My dad passed his DORE test, the behind-the-wheel driving test. So, I faxed the doctor asking her to not let my dad drive even though he passed this test since it would have more weight coming from her than if my sister or I asked him not to drive. A few days before the appointment, the doctor’s office called and left me a message saying the doctor would not honor my wishes.

My brother-in-law went with my dad went to the doctor and as they were leaving, the front-desk staff handed some papers to my dad. My brother-in-law thought there might be some details about my dad’s DORE test in the papers and so he looked at them. The top paper was a copy of my fax to the doctor asking her to not let my dad drive. Yes, the confidential letter that I did not want my dad to see was on top. So my brother-in-law took a picture of it and texted it to my sister who sent it to me.

I let the doctor know right away by fax that this had happened. (Faxing, according to her office, is the best way for me to communicate with her from out of state; however, it’s not without risks.) The office manager called me back a couple hours later and apologized saying they didn’t intend for the fax to be given to my dad. It was a clerical error.

“Well,” I said, “let’s hope he doesn’t see it.”

The next day, I called my parents and spoke to my dad and he brought it up. “I can’t believe you and your sister would do this to me.” 

This is how I had “the talk” with my dad.