You pride yourself on being relatively safety conscious and emergency preparedness minded. You don't skydive, race cars, mountain climb, bungee jump, or join in other "Bucket List" activities that might perhaps void your life insurance. You don't even ride on roller coasters, just in case there is a part prohibiting it hidden deep within the fine print. You gave up water slides years ago.
Ailing in health, finding yourself a bit less speedy and agile as Michael Jordan going to the hole in his peak, or merely a bit awkward or ungraceful, you worry at times about living alone in your home. Railings put in for support in tactical locations around the house may already have been recommended by your children and installed. The shower or tub may also have supplementary no-slip patches. You understand that if you ever suffered a heart attack, one thing that could save your life is to cough deeply and hard (continuously). You also keep a couple of chewable aspirin in small packages in your wallet at all times to take in case of heart attack as well. Training yourself to self-administer the Heimlich Maneuver by sitting in a chair or putting your back up against the wall and forcefully thrusting up and in the thumb side of your fist by grasping the fist with the other hand was crossed off your list a some time ago. As soon as someone finds out a means to self-administer CPR, you'll sign up for that class, too.
Lately you have been thinking about the gas, electric, and water shutoffs, and where they are all located in case that big earthquake comes they've been discussing about the potential for for years. And you rotate out the batteries in your smoke detectors two times per year at daylight savings time adjustment like you heard someone from the fire department advise. You also have a carbon monoxide detector plugged into the wall in the hallway going to your room. A fire extinguisher is in the closet just off the kitchen, and another one is in a separate closet at the opposite end of the house. An emergency car kit is in the trunk of your car as well as a 72 hour kit in the garage. You wish you had another railing in the middle of the garage bolted to the floor that you could hang onto and pull yourself out of the car with, and to get yourself balanced before you walk into the house.
Beside all of this, you think you are adequately prepared, although something that your nurse daughter said recently has been eating at you a smidge. She had "tenderly" recommended that you get one of those silly necklaces with a button that you press in case you fall and can't get up on your own. Well, you think you can still manage to get to your feet if you needed to, and you want to continue feeling a sense of self reliance. "It's just precautionary," your daughter said to you, "in case you broke a bone and couldn't move." You're still mulling it over, thinking she may be right. Why not? If it'll make her feel better, you rationalize. And so you get on to ordering a medical alert system. And then you call your daughter to report it to her. She's happy, so you're happy, and you get on with your life.
