Deer in the Headlights

During an exceedingly long trip, I encountered a large, red, ROAD CLOSED sign. As is the way in the U.K., diversion signs had been put up to send us all on an alternative route to our destination. Sort of like life, really.

The forthcoming huge sigh that exited my mouth came as a surprise, even to me! I was unaware that the frustration instigated by a metal sign was that dire, leaving me in confusion as to why I reacted in that way. As the answer hit me, it coincided with an oh-so-familiar creepy feeling in my legs. Hello, RLS.

The struggle to stay awake was real

Hunting in the misty darkness for yellow roadsigns is a challenge, especially at 1:30 AM. Leaving at an appropriate hour to dodge the inconvenient traffic, not wishing to stare at brake lights for hours on end — the decision to leave in the wee small hours had turned round and bitten me in the ass, a pain which I would gladly have accepted at that juncture.

Resembling one of the nodding dogs that live on car parcel shelves, the struggle to stay awake was real, made even more poignant by the fact my legs were trying to undertake a rousing rendition of the can-can in the confines of a footwell. Restless legs syndrome really does choose its moment to encroach on your day!

Trying to control my legs on a stressful drive

Fifteen minutes into the game of hide-and-seek with lurid neon signs, the environment I was traveling in decided to make the task even more arduous. Enter a torrential downpour. Now, I was looking through a God-almighty rainstorm and mountains covered in mist, trying to control my legs so the poor driver could concentrate on navigating the roads without sending us down the embankment on either side of the car.

About 35 minutes and half a dozen signs later, we realised that somebody must have played a prank, moving an arrow to send the train of traffic in the wrong direction. We seemed to be heading in the wrong direction on the compass. "Why are you using a compass in this technological era?" I hear you ask. Because, both the satellite navigation and cellular signals had disappeared! We were blind in the wilds of Northern England.

During this enjoyable saga, you would think my RLS would have settled down due to the mental agility being undertaken by the stressfulness of the situation. Funnily enough, no. It seemed the more worrisome and dangerous the problems became, the more creepy and jiggly my legs became!

Have a paper map in the car, and be kind

To bring my story to its natural conclusion, the helpful signage put in place to direct us around a minor road closure took us one-and-a-half hours out of our way, ultimately sending us in a huge elongated circle, resulting in us being miles away from nowhere with 15 miles of fuel in the tank. Thankfully, we met up with a gentleman who believed in the power of karma, leading us to a gas station before we were stranded overnight.

The moral of this story is thus: Always have a paper map in the car, and play nice! Karma might be a b-word sometimes, but occasionally she helps you out.

Also, restless legs syndrome chooses the most inopportune moments to make itself known!