OCD won't allow me to feel insouciant, or content.

I got my driving licence back (temporarily lost due to ill health), and am over the moon with having it, and my lovely car. However, I've had a medical restrictive code for 'modified transmission' put on it. This means it has to have a modified clutch, my car has no clutch: it's automatic, or I can use paddle shift. I can't stop ringing the DVLA to check my car is conducive to the restrictive code: it is, a myriad of DVLA representatives have told me, my dad phoned and asked the same question, with the same response from them. But I find a new way of phrasing, or asking the question, and feel a massive urge to keep ringing them; if I don't ring, my ocd won't allow me to enjoy my car; something which is my greatest pleasure, after not being able to drive for years through health, with the idea of ever driving again being nebulous at best. This is the 'latest' worry in a cornucopia of pleasure reduction ruminations, for me.

I'd love any responses.

Thanks

StevieB