About six months ago, before my ‘ticcing fits’ intensified, I wrote about getting stuck on the floor on my own, which used to be quite a regular occurrence. Even though it was distressing I’d became fairly accustomed to it, and for the last few months it hasn’t been a problem because now I nearly always have someone with me, or close by.
This morning I got a nasty reminder of how unpleasant it is being stuck on the floor without anyone to help me. I’d gone to brush my teeth and I’d shut the bathroom door behind me. When I was half way through I started to ‘fit’, and dropped to the floor – the tiles were hard and cold, and my hands kept hitting the side of the toilet and the wall.
The bathroom is tucked away and I knew that Poppy, who was in her room, wouldn’t easily hear me. I couldn’t shout out or reach my phone, which I’d put on the edge of the basin. Eventually Poppy heard me and came to my rescue.
Everything was swiftly under control but it was a stark reminder of the times I’d been floored before and made me realise how fortunate I am to have support in place almost all the time now.
At the beginning of next week an Occupational Therapist is coming to the Castle to suggest what can be done to make the place safer for me. I hope they’ll be able to arrange for a panic alarm to be fitted in the bathroom. If that can be done, a repetition of this nasty experience will be a little less likely.
“Have I Got Christmas Trees For You?”