Well I was wrong. NINETY minutes. This guy was thorough. UNBELIEVABLY thorough. He checked EVERYTHING. And he asked questions....lots and lots of questions. He asked Dad about whether he was sad. Dad said no and I nodded my head yes. He asked Dad if he's lost interest in doing things. Dad said yes. (Victory!) The doctor asked him what things he used to do that he stopped doing. Dad said "working on cars." (Um, Dad hasn't worked on cars in over 10 years.) The doc asked how long it's been that he lost interest in working on cars. Dad said "Six months." Oy.
The doc spent a lot of time on Dad's feet and arms and it was obvious there was concern. He said that Dad has suspicious joint stiffness that may or may not be the beginning signs of Parkinson's Disease. We'll make a follow-up with a neurologist to check that out too.
Toward the end of the appointment, Dad pointed to me and asked me to bring out the driver's license revocation appeal letter from the Illinois Secretary of State. I handed it to him and he gave it to the doctor and asked him to fill it out and send it in. The doctor said: "I will, but it's not going to be good news." He then explained, in-depth, why Dad should no longer drive. He talked about his dementia, the neuropathy in his feet, the stiffness in his arms and how all of this together leads to poor reaction times in driving and, how he could hurt himself and someone else.
The doctor stepped out of the office and Dad and I had this conversation:
Dad: This guy is good, REALLY good.
Me: Yeah, he is. Very thorough. So Dad, why do you want your driver's license back?
Dad: Because I want to drive. Duh. That's a stupid question.
Me: Jeez, you don't have to be mean. I was just wondering. By the way, I'm not going to let you drive.
Dad: Oh yeah? Then you're going to have to throw yourself in front of the car. You can't stop me.
Me: Dad, did you hear what the doctor said about how you shouldn't drive?
Dad: You know what? This guy is SO good, he could find something wrong with YOU so that YOU wouldn't be able to drive.
Me: Is that what you think happened? That the doctor is so good that he was looking for things that were wrong with you?
Dad: Yes I do.
*Cut to me burying my face in my hands.
The doctor came back in and I decided to be bold:
Me: So, doctor, just to confirm, you do not think that Dad should drive, right?
Dad: Jeez, don't go and ruin everything!
Doctor: That is right. I do not think it is safe for him to drive.
*Dad shoots me daggers while inside I do a little victory dance.
I literally don't think that Dad heard that last part. I think he truly thinks he has a shot to get his license back. I also have this small fear that somebody will be asleep in the Secretary of State's office and will just give him the license back. But we'll deal with that if and when it happens.
In any case, Dad was pretty happy with his new doctor, although he was also quite annoyed that we had to set up a follow-up appointment in three months. He said to me: "You know what my philosophy about doctors is? Don't go see a doctor until you have to."
Sure, Dad. How's that working out for you?
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