Saturday 7 April 2018

I Dropped My Phone

It's late. David just left for home. Kate and her boys were here earlier. They too are gone home. I am once again alone in my quiet little abode, watching the snow swirl and dance, winding its way downward, pulled here and there by gravity and wind. It's April, yet we have snow, and will have for a few days hence. It's icy cold outside too, cold enough for me to want to stay inside all day without complaint, the bitter wind driving the chill deep inside of all it encounters.

The day started off badly, at least for me. My HCA arrived on time; Sam is always on time, unless there is something really serious going on. She dialed to get in. The phone rang. As I went to pick it up, the phone slid through my fingers, tumbling to the floor, under the bed, where I was completely unable to see it, let alone pick it up. I looked for my grabby stick, hoping to use it to get the phone before it stopped ringing. It was nowhere in sight. I later discovered it was reachable, but not visible, sitting on the back of the night table, behind my lamp, clock, pills, catheter tray, et. al.

I missed the first direct call as Sam warned me of her imminent arrival. I missed her first two calls from the front door. I missed her second direct call as she tried in vain to reach me. Then another couple of calls from the front door went by, followed closely by two calls from the CBI office. Then they all gave up and went away. During all this missing of calls, each call closely tracked by my cell phone call log, I had the bright idea to ask for help on Facebook. I also had, in my back pocket so to speak, the knowledge that David was planning to come by at around 2:00 PM. We were going to go look for a few things for the van.

David saw my Facebook post and headed on down, arriving at about 1:30 PM. He retrieved my phone, putting me in place to call CBI, asking my HCA to come back, finally. Unfortunately that was not to be. Sam had finished her day and was off to her second job at a care home. Worse news yet, there were no other HCA's who could get to me before 5:00 PM. I had a few choice words to say to the coordinator, at which point he really went to work. There was, in fact, one of my regular HCA's who could get to me by 3:00 PM. Both David and I thought this was a good idea, as opposed to David trying to get me up and into my wheelchair. So we waited.

Yvonne arrived at 3:18 PM. My day began, fairly uneventfully. David and I agreed that tomorrow would be a better day to go shopping for van supplies, a few things at Costco, and to look for something to go in the corner from whence the old freezer is departing, something to hold HCA records, mail, along with other health records and such. I won't be able to store them in the spare room any more. The live-in caregiver will be in that room. Hopefully this kind of dropped phone incident won't mean quite so much after that.

1 comment:

  1. I would think that maybe a key hidden somewhere so that they could get in would be a good idea , i mean you could of fallen and been on the ground suffering. There got to be a way until the live in care giver is there a remedy so this wont happen again. Your watching snow, i’m Watching rain from my balcony in shorts and t shirt, wish i was at my home in Oregon , i like the cold and snow. Florida is mosquito haven.

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