Overwhelmed

Forty-five years ago, I sometimes drove my husband’s truck. If my memory serves me right, it was a 1962 Chevrolet, manual transmission. Obviously, no power steering. I even managed to drive it when close to nine months pregnant. It was a close fit, with my belly touching the giant steering wheel so I could reach the pedals. No problem.

Yesterday, though, picking up a rental vehicle just about did me in. State Farm had requested a sedan, but Enterprise gave me a “small” truck, saying that was all they had. And not just any truck, and certainly not “small” by my reckoning. It was a brand new (the odometer showed less than 400 miles), bright red Nissan Frontier. Anyone else would be thrilled to drive it. But not me.

It did not help that rain was pouring down right after I drove it off the lot. I thought I would be okay. But in just a few minutes I was panicked. This monster of a truck was simply too big for me to ever feel comfortable driving it. Within a few minutes, I was ready to take it back. I should have done so; after all, there were twenty minutes left until the Enterprise office closed for the weekend. (Now, who has ever heard of a car rental business—in fact, the only one in Bartlesville—closed on weekends?) But I was already late for picking up my son from work. And I quickly decided that Joseph would not drive the truck—he’s only had his license for a couple years and has no truck experience.

By the time I got home, I was pretty much an emotional wreck. And then I had to get it in my garage. It barely fit. By the time I turned off the engine, I had decided that the next time I would drive it would be Monday morning to return it and request a sedan. So much for the in-person car shopping I had planned to start over the weekend.

I am scared to drive that monster truck again. Afraid I will do something wrong and get a scratch on the gleaming surface. Or that it will hail, and I will be liable for the damage (yes, that is the policy). I’ve lost my nerve.

I’ve spent the day relaxing. I’m over the flu, and the side effects from last week’s infusion have subsided. I’m resting up for Monday morning’s drive back to Enterprise. There is no way I am going to drive that truck to church tomorrow, especially since thunderstorms are in the forecast.

Maybe it’s kind of weird that having stage IV cancer does not overwhelm me, but the prospect of driving that truck does. I’ll be in the market for a compact or a subcompact car.