Last night, I was sitting on the couch, watching TV when the caller ID flashed the name of my parents' Assisted Living facility. "Uh oh," I said. It's the call you don't want, but you have to take.
Turns out, Dad was reaching to close the blinds in the apartment, lost his balance and tumbled to the floor. He didn't hurt himself but he couldn't get up....much like had happened many times before when my parents lived alone.
Fortunately, my Mom or Dad pulled the little cord thingy on the wall and somebody came to help him up. They also took his vital signs to make sure he was OK. Then I was called...twice. Once last night and once this morning. It was reassuring to know that everybody was OK and they had survived this incident.
Phew....sort of.
See, the thing is, although I'm totally relieved that Dad fell in a place that is safe and where they were there to pick him up, the problem is that he still fell. And when will he fall and hurt himself? I know it will happen...eventually. No, I'm not being all Negative Nancy, I'm being Realistic Rita. Because here's the cold, hard truth about all of our parents - Eventually, they will fail. I know it. You know it. We all know it. The question really becomes: Who will be there to pick them up and what's the next step?
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