There were few topics that came up more frequently than the driving issue in my support group. And every time I give a presentation, there are questions about driving. And every Alzheimer’s disease discussion board or chat room will eventually circle around to the driving issue. In my teaching memoir, I devote more words to this topic in this chapter’s discussion and practice section than I do anywhere else. It’s a big issue. I could easily write more than this one blog about it, so I’ll just hit the high points and leave you to read the ninth chapter of my book.
There are two main categories for why someone living with dementia might not be able to drive: poor driving skills and navigational difficulties. Of course, both can be involved at the same time.
Poor driving skills are the result of the person’s diminishing visual-spatial skills and reaction time. You might notice more dings and scrapes on your loved one’s vehicle. The best way to assess their driving skills, in my opinion, is to ride with them. If you are too scared to sit in the passenger seat, your loved one should not be driving. An accident caused by your loved one’s poor driving skills could be a disaster—for your loved one or for a stranger. You really just can’t allow that to happen. You might actually be liable if something disastrous does occur and it’s learned that you were aware of your loved one’s diminished abilities.
Navigational difficulties arise because a person living with Alzheimer’s disease cannot create an internal map to know where they are, and so they may get lost easily, even in familiar surroundings. You have all heard horror tales about a loved one winding up lost and far from home.
In our case, Harvey remained a careful, cautious driver, retaining his skills. However, navigation was a problem for him early on. He became dependent on me to get him places. I found that I was on alert the entire time, watching lanes and giving him just the right amount of information at just the right time. I couldn’t even count on him to remember when to turn into a familiar parking lot.
Once I realized that Harvey had severe navigational problems, I began to worry that he would get lost while I was at work. He couldn’t remember to carry a cell phone, and he became incensed when I suggested having OnStar installed in his car. I decided to plant a tracking device discretely in his car, and set it up so that I would be alerted on my cell phone if his car left the house. I then followed him remotely until he returned home.
I only had to rescue him once, but that incident led me to pursue a formal driving assessment. I knew that he wouldn’t pass, but I wanted someone other than myself to make that judgement. Once he failed the test, I sold his car so that it would not be there to tempt him. He was quietly angry at first, but eventually, it was just the way it was.
So what can you do? The Alzheimer’s Association has a simple handout that I am linking to. I especially like the driving contract that’s included. Check out your state’s laws regarding driving with a diagnosis of dementia. Elicit the help of your loved one’s physician, car insurance agent, or a friendly law enforcement officer.
Putting an end to your loved one’s driving potentially curtails their freedom and limits their independence. It’s a milestone that few people willingly cross.
Good luck! It’s a tough one.