22 March 2007

A truly scary experience today. A fire alarm – turns out to be drill, of course – and with no time to think about it I have to walk down 22 flights of stairs, then walk half way across Canary Wharf.

Since I am trying not to affect my employment prospects, I don’t want to tell anyone I have MS. So there I am, trekking down all these stairs, wondering if I’ll make it to the bottom. Curiously, it wasn’t too tricky. Gravity is a wonderful aid, and the fact that travel is continually downward means that my usual problem with walking – not picking my feet up such that I drag them or trip over them – was really not an issue. The walking afterwards was troublesome, especially as my legs were by that time fit to collapse. Nevertheless, I kept going, and made it to the assembly point, then back into the office, without dying.