"This is Lukie." I say this often. Lukie. A Golden Retriever who can go from serious working dog to an eager people greeter in half a second. People ask who is at my side and then, as Lukie happily wags his tail, I explain that he is my service dog. People often then look from Luke to me and ask: "What does he do?" I explain that Luke can go under my leg and raise it onto a bed or raise it over a tub as needed. He is able to tug my sleeves to help me get my jacket off, pull off my socks, and pick up items I drop. Using a towel or rope, he pulls doors open then closes them with a swipe of his paw. Every kid and some parents would love to have him to put clothes in the laundry and pick up toys! These are the daily living tasks I can list.
Luke, though, has also taken on another job. One not taught. It is, to me, his most important job, which becomes apparent in the small pause that comes when people, hearing Luke is a service dog, look from him to me. Because of Luke, people I meet don't initially see the quad cane, wheelchair, and other tools that help with my mobility. They see Luke. He makes disability approachable. This is his unintended role. His superpower.
Barbara M. Joose in her book "Mama Do You Love Me?" writes of a young girl who questions her mother about love. "Mama do you love me? How much?" The mother responds, "...more than the dog loves his tail." This is how I love Lukie. In Ms. Joose's book the child continues, testing her mother's love. "What if I turned into a polar bear and I was the meanest bear you ever saw and I had sharp teeth... and I chased you...?" Kindly, the mother tells the child: "Then I would be very surprised and very scared. But still, inside the bear you would be you and I would love you." The mother can see beyond the frightening scenario to the child she loves. This is how Luke loves and this is what Luke does.
This is how he helps people to see beyond wheelchairs and canes and understand that a person with a disability is not so different than themselves. That the person in the wheelchair laughs and holds hopes and dreams, just as most everyone else. Sometimes, Luke even helps me see beyond the medical equipment. Because of living with challenges, I sometimes look about me and forget that I am not the wheelchair or the cane. And become frightened. But Lukie gives me a nuzzle telling me that "inside the bear" I am me and he is there to face the world by my side. He reassures. He gives me more confidence. He helps me to see the good in my community.
This is my service dog. These are his jobs. This is Lukie.
Is It Time to Stop Driving?
Home care professionals are often asked if patients can resume or continue driving. The following self-assessment from the National Institutes of Health can provide a framework for making that decision.
If the patient answers "yes" to any of the below questions, it may be time for them to consider stopping driving:
Do other drivers often honk at you?
Have you had some accidents, even if they were only "fender benders?"
Do you get lost, even on roads you know?
Do cars or people walking seem to appear out of nowhere?
Do you get distracted while driving?
Has anyone told you they're worried about your driving?
Do you have trouble staying in your lane?
Do you have trouble moving your foot between the gas and the brake pedals, or sometimes confuse the two?
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