22 July 2014

A sobering day. I realised two things: why I don't wear my call alert button; and why I should wear my call alert button. 

I don't wear it for a simple reason. It's notjing to do with accepting that I might need help, but all about convincing myself that I might have to call on someone. 

I know that sounds stupid. It sounds pretty dumb to me too. But it's true. At least it was until today. I needed to go to the loo. I got in there and was transferring from Old Smokey to the perching stool, ŵhen I got in a pickle. I wasn't on the stool properly and didn't have the strength to right myself. Gradually, almost elegantly, I slid go the stool onto the floor between the stool and the loo. 

I thought for a moment. I tried to pich myself up. I tried so hard  then I realised that I didn't have my call alert button. How easy it would have been to summon help. Instead I wriggled and crawled and hauled myself to the bedroom, where I could reach the phone. I called and my elder son ansŵered. Suddenly I was filled with relief.  He came round and with customary (but disturbing) ease, lifted me up. 

I realised that the call alert button is crappy, but it would be a short-cut to salvation.