Reading about my driving experiences can even bore me. So feel free to skip this latest chapter.

Which begins with the rain. We have had a lot this year. Which is a wonderful thing if you are a farmer or a delta smelt. Or even just a Californian. Actually it’s splendid. But for those of us of the spinal-cord-Injury persuasion rain is, of course, mixed. Nevermind getting soaked because yet another elevator is broken in the subway system. Driving anxiety only gets worse. And it’s bad enough already.

And why is it bad? Well, it just is. Which is another way of saying that some of us tolerate…and even expect…such a high level of day-to-day anxiety, mixed with a toxic dose of self recrimination, that we can’t tell if driving is bad…or we are bad and some indefinable way.

Of course, not everyone drives a car sitting in a wheelchair. Brake and accelerator pedals are designed to be where they are for a reason. And that reason has much to do with Chrysler and its bucket seats. With which you have absolutely nothing to do. Meaning that the car controls are essentially where they shouldn’t be. And if you want to have any control yourself, the whole thing needs to be adapted.

Being pretty well adapted yourself, you tend to over adapt. That is to say, you adapt to the adaptation. So when I switched driving in my old model wheelchair to my new model wheelchair, suddenly I was driving from a different height. I was driving in a chair that had legrests. So everything is out of whack, but it still seems that I’m not doing enough. Enough to drive properly, to make the experience easy. And the anxiety level has been rising. I haven’t been driving much because of the rain. And then when I do drive, it doesn’t seem easy.

Do the new adaptations need to be adapted? Or do I need to adapt the adaptations? As matters go, this one is murky. I don’t know. Still, I’ve been gradually increasing my driving, as the skies have been gradually decreasing their rainfall. And today on Potrero Avenue, returning from the purchase of lettuce seedlings, something went profoundly wrong. It probably began with the general vague sense that I was missing one pedal or another. Hitting an edge of the accelerator when I went to the brake, or vice versa. I don’t know. But my driving foot slipped out of its anchoring slot. And for several seconds I couldn’t find the brake. My feeling isn’t good. Bad sensation doesn’t help this situation. I had to look down, visually find the pedal…and jam it on at the last minute. Not recommended. And did something similar happen as I neared home? Same thing. My foot slipped out of its slot.

In both cases, I actually stopped, put the car in park and sorted things out as best I could. Then resumed driving. I think that’s the most important part. I also concluded that I need to tilt my wheelchair down as much as possible. This tends to jam the foot in place. And at the end of the day, I have to drive with the feeling that my foot still has. And if that’s not enough, I shouldn’t be driving. Which at my age and level of disability, requires constant realism. And with everything going wrong in the country, realism is good. Still, I had a close call. Or two close calls. So there’s another missing step. Be grateful.