When the Breaks Go the Right Way

 After three tough months in Massachusetts, some life challenges are beginning to resolve themselves. Sometimes things finally go right.

First, after months of frustration, I finally got my Massachusetts driver’s license. The difficulties: My car title still had a lien listed on it, although I had paid it off on 2019. I finally found the lien release letter and got my license plates. But then I couldn’t get a Massachusetts license because I failed the peripheral vision test. This was a huge surprise for me, since I never knew I had a problem. Vision tests by an optometrist confirmed this. The office connected me to Mass Eye and Ear, a highly respected institution. The team there dilated me, peered into my eyeballs, administered visions tests and, to my surprise, I finally passed. A week later I got an official form completed by the team confirming this. Then I went to the motor vehicle office ready to get my license.

A customer service rep asked me, “Are you a truck driver?”

What? “No, I’m just a car driver.”

“This form is for commercial drivers.”

I left, crushed, and had Mass Eye send me the information on the right form. With that in hand, I called the RMV’s senior line to make an appointment. It was two weeks later, this past Monday.

When all this was happening, I was in a lot of pain from twisting my back soon after moving here. I was worried that I had re-injured my meniscus in my knee—I had had surgery for that three years ago. I finally saw an orthopedist practice that x-rayed me, showing two lower vertebrae pressing together. That most likely cause the numbness in my leg. A physical therapy practice could see me – in three weeks.

So this left a lot of time for stewing and fretting. Then I had a call from Bay State Physical Therapy last week. Could I come in two weeks early? Oh, a slot had opened? Heck yeah! I started last week.

This past Monday, Bastille Day, marked a memorable day. I arrived at the RMV, got a slip giving me a number that would be called, and sat as close as possible to the row of service reps behind their plexiglass barriers. I felt a knot in my chest and wondered, seriously, if I’d have a heart attack from the tension. This was my 6^th trip to the RMV. I was loaded with my passport, social security card, the letter from Mass Eye and freshly completed application form; I had checked every need. Rattled, I couldn’t look at my phone or read. I just sat and looked around at the people waiting and waiting. Meanwhile, the minutes ticked by since I had a 2 pm physical therapy session. I arrived at 11, and the clock had already struck noon.

Finally, my number, L 555, was up. I went to the section, trying to feel confident, although I just felt resigned. Que será, será. I passed my documents to the rep and nothing looked amiss. She asked for two documents confirming my current address, and I had those. I knew the tide was turning when she took my photo against a plain background.

And then I was done. I got my temporary license and was on my way. I didn’t even have to rush to physical therapy.

The PT felt good as the therapist tested my leg and its strength. With that and the license, I could feel my outlook shifting. The stress locked in my chest eased, a big relief. I told the therapist I felt better and the leg pain was becoming more an annoyance, less of a crisis. I’m limping less and sleeping better. 

So what’s it mean? Sometimes the breaks go your way, even as the aging process slams into my awareness, and my peripheral vision. I now drive with even more obsessive concentration, scanning to my left and right like a nervous Secret Service agent. I’m adjusting. But I’ll never drive like the stereotypical Masshole, as the term goes up here, no matter how good my vision is. I’ll remain the rule-obeying driver who drives the Massholes crazy.