This issue has haunted me since the day I first had a parent scream at me, “Turn right, damn it!!!! Turn right! Not left. RIGHT!!! Aw, for crying out loud….” Imagine brakes squealing in the background. They might be my brakes. Or someone else’s. But they are squealing.
I am directionally challenged.
There. I said it.
All I can say is thank the gods above for GPS and onboard navigators. They have saved my life, and the lives of those I hold dear, on more than one occasion.
When they are right.
Sometimes I wonder how my life would have been different if I had had Google Maps in those early formative years. What would have happened if I had shown up for the interview for the summer job with that attorney on time instead of wandering around lost for thirty minutes in a scary part of town?
Now you may say, “It is a dang good thing you are not a surgeon if you don’t know right from left!” You would have a valid point except that right and left on human bodies it not a problem at all.
I cannot tell you how my brain does it exactly. In a fraction of a second, the human body in front of me is flipped and I stick out my virtual right and left hands as correlation and TA-DA! Perfect placement documented.
Yet, I cannot do this while driving. I feel handicapped, even paralyzed, at a large intersection unless I can look over at the map projected on the screen in my car and see which way that blue line is going…
I would like to blame my parents. They make perfect scapegoats for all sorts of things, especially as they cannot defend themselves in this forum. Genetically, I could lack all those special neurons in the entorhinal cortex region of the brain. Or it could be that they forced my left handed early self to become right handed because of the perceived disability associated with left handedness.
Regardless of all of that, I am an intelligent woman (I think) with an advanced degree. I can help treat your diabetes and pneumonia and God forbid, your heart attack. Just don’t ask me for directions to my own clinic.