This morning I had a further insight on the the operation of the CCN. It functions like a flashlight. I can turn it on and off. When it is on, it illuminates whatever is directly within its beam. Anything outside this point of focus is not seen.

This assessment may be wildly wrong. It is based on my interpretation of events as informed by my lay understanding of cognitive science. I throw up this caution to indicate that what follows is my surmise, a thesis in regard to my own cognitive function. It is not proved correct.

When I attempted the incorrect turn going the wrong way on Metcalfe, all of my attention was focused on locating individuals. It was a dark night. I feared hitting an unseen pedestrian. Since all my attention was targeted toward the singular goal of pedestrian detection, I lacked situational awareness. My consciousness was unable to integrate other aspects of my area knowledge. My past history and experience of walking Metcalfe, my knowing it was a one way street, all this information dropped out of mind as my total concentration was engaged in a search for a person on foot.

At that moment of driving I was operating under the direction of my CCN. In fact, I believe all of my driving activity is performed under the direction of the CCN.

I know that in the period before the injury, I would drive in to work with little concern, or foresight. Driving was a casual event. I would get in the car and go. There was no structure, no task dedication, no planning.

Since the accident, my driving has taken on a completely different quality. To get in the car is an event. I need to plan for this event (on the first visit to a new destination I will spend an hour in Google maps previewing the route. When I went to Montreal, I devoted the better part of a day to trip planning). I make a conscious decision in regard to the intended destination and I previzualize the route from the start point in my parking lot, all the way to the intended destination and return.

Once in the car, my entire focus is on car routine. I noticed this the other day when clearing snow off the car. Snow removal had my total focus; I failed to notice the other residents also out cleaning their cars. Something similar was noted on returning from a visit to Dr H. I arrived at the parked car, started it, and then commenced snow clearing. The resident of the house in front of which I had parked for the afternoon came out to shovel his driveway. He was able to finish clearing his entire driveway while I was still working to remove the last flake of snow from the car.

Driving takes my total focus and it is exhausting. There are no route changes or diversions, no spontaneous alterations of course. I have a set of predetermined travel paths and I adhere to them without diversion. While behind the wheel, I am constantly searching for threats and events: pedestrians, cyclists, the actions of the car ahead, other vehicles to the left and right, road conditions, upcoming potholes, the position of the sun, and road glare. I feel a sense of relief once I return home. Home is a refuge within which I am free to turn off the conscious apparatus I must utilize when driving.(I remember mentioning this feeling of safety on return home to one of my doctors. At the time I thought it odd; I have no memory of feeling this way before the accident. This interpretation of the return home allowing for directed CCN functions to be “turned off” now explains this sense of safety.)

On the night of the wrong turn, I ended up caught in a traffic jam. I was well away from any of my normal routes. I had been working all day at MicroTonic; I suspect I was fatigued. Driving in the dark is particularly difficult. My focus was dedicated to driving activity, I was making a conscious effort, and only my passenger’s intervention gave notice of the fact my driving routine was degraded, no longer fully functioning. The recognition of this fact caused a breakdown of confidence in my own abilities. I was in the car and could no longer trust my sense perceptions.

Being held immobile in a traffic jam was actually a very positive event. The stopped car created an opportunity to asses the situation. An extremely slow moving traffic stream meant the velocity of events slowed to a pace compatible with my own speed of cognitive processing. The stationary time was used to regain situational awareness, identify my present location, plan how to reach a known travel route, and then head for the safety of home.

My interpretation of these events is that I have learned to apply the CCN to the functions associated with driving a car. What stands out for me is the manner in which the CCN functions as a form of flashlight. I am able to target my consciousness in a very specific way. All of my attention, and cognitive effort, becomes pinpointed on an immediate set of task functions. Any activity which lies outside the immediate scope of the task function is ignored, or not incorporated. This results in the loss of situational awareness. I must compensate for this loss of awareness by undertaking continual active scanning of my environment. This is very tiring and requires considerable effort. I compensate, and seek to minimize the effort required, by following well established travel patterns, routes on which I know the obstacles and the hazards, have an awareness of traffic choke points and areas of threat, and am able to map this awareness into the cognitive routine of driving.