Be Prepared

Right, On Your Marks, Get Set and Go !

Fearing the Worst

My post on Fear and Grief the other day set me to thinking about how and why I often 'waste' time - worrying over the 'what if' scenarios. I am always prepared for the worst to happen. This can be an annoying and a stressful waste of time. But I have been told that I am good in an emergency. People like having me around as they feel I am a calming influence. I keep a cool calm head when all about me are in a panic. I don't panic. I'm decisive. I quickly gather the facts and decide what line of action to take. Because I've been there - in my imagination. Thought the worst. Worked out how best to deal with it. I have had practise. Even if I feel the fear too I don't show it. Deadpan Annie, that's me.

I remember once when MyMan was late home from work. A 200 mile drive. Our young 12 year old niece was visiting. She and I had a film video on. Something she found really absorbing. But I found it scary. So I avoided watching some of the time. I averted my gaze from time to time. Looked out the window every now and then. Saw a police car pull up outside. A Policeman and a Policewoman. This was in the days when WPC's were sent out to pass on the bad news or to help mothers and/or children in distress, domestic cases. I was sure they had come to tell me BAD news. Sure that MyMan had been involved in an accident. I left the room to put the kettle on and get the tea things out of the cupboard. I knew they would want me to have a cuppa for the shock. I didn't like to think of them having to forage for everything for themselves in a strange kitchen. I am thoughtful of others feelings.

I'd made the pot of tea and still no knock at the door. I started to plan how to care for niece. How to get to the hospital if MyMan was in fact a survivor. I also started to make long terms plans if I was now a widow. Well, by long term, I mean the funeral and what to wear. Still no knock at the door so I had a peek through the window again. Saw then they were inspecting a newly built house just down the road. They did in fact buy it. Mr and Mrs PC moved in to become neighbours a few months later.

I returned to the film and enjoyed the pot of tea. Wondering when my travelling husband was going to get home for supper. At least nowadays mobile phones help us to keep in contact with reasons for late arrivals.

Loo Loo, Trip to the Loo, My Darling

What a relief - there is a public toilet nearby. As usual, when you need to visit a public loo there is invariably a line of women waiting, smiling politely you take your place in the line. Finally you're at the head of the queue, you check for feet under the cubicle doors. Every cubicle is occupied. Eventually a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the cubicle. You get in to find the door won't lock. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long and you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern 'seat covers' is empty. You would hang your bag on the door hook if there was one, but there isn't so you carefully drape it around your neck, yank down your pants and assume 'the position'.

In this position your ageing, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You would love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold 'the position'. To take your mind off your trembling thighs for a moment you reach for the toilet paper dispenser and your worst nightmare it's empty, the toilet roll dispenser is empty. You hover looking around in the hope there's a new roll behind you no such luck. Your thighs start to shake more. Then you remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday the one that's still in your handbag, which is now burning your neck & shoulders with the weight. So you contort your arm into a very unnatural position and start to fumble around in the deep dark depths of your handbag for that small crumpled used tissue.

Someone pushes your door cubicle door and because the latch doesn't work the door hits your head, which is bent forward from you holding your bag around your neck while you are rummaging for that used tissue. Taken by surprise you start to lose your balance and topple backwards. 'Occupied!' you scream, as you reach to push the door shut and drop the precious, tiny, crumpled tissue you had only just managed to retrieve with your index finger into an 'unknown' puddle on the floor.

If that isn't enough you lose your balance altogether, or just give up and... sit down .. directly onto the TOILET SEAT. Ugh - yes - it's wet! You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your thighs and bottom have made contact with every imaginable germ & life form that lives on the uncovered seat.
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of cold water like a fire hose into the bowl which causes a spray of fine mist that completely covers your bum and runs downs your legs along with all the various life forms and down into your dishevelled pants which have now dropped to your ankles with your hems soaking up that puddle from the floor.

The flush seems to suck everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged down too. At this point you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe your self with a piece of gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You cannot figure out how to operate the tap, so run your hands underneath it grateful for the two drops of water there and around the basin itself. You go to the towel dispenser past the line of women still waiting. But of course there are no paper towels so you move onto the hand blower, which doesn't work either!
You're no longer able to smile politely to the women, but there's an unspoken understanding between you all. A kind soul at the very end of the line of women points out that you have a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. Where was that when you NEEDED IT?

As you leave your husband, who has long since entered, used and left the men's toilets asks, 'What took you so long, why is your handbag hanging around your neck?'

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with public loos. It also helps explain to the men why it really does take us women so long and it also answers that commonly asked question Why do women always go to the loos in pairs?
It's so your friend can hold the door, hang onto your bag and pass you tissue under the door!

I had adapted this from an email sent to me from an Aussie cousin. But on researching the links I found this blog - I assume this may well be the original form.

Emergency Planning

A couple of years ago - post 11/9 [or if you are a non-European 9/11] the Government issued a booklet as to what to do in an emergency. From what I remember it was to get or remain indoors, tune in to the local radio, stock pile food/water etc.
Well I'm still stock-piling food [ I'm sure that is helping Sainsbury's and Waitrose on their profit levels] but I am beginning to run out of space. I was wondering recently about getting the builders back in to advise whether we have space for them to dig under the foundations and build a huge cellar. I could store a lot of groceries and water in there. It would rejuvenate my jaded palate for shopping. I already have cupboards stuffed full with maxi soups, baked beans, sweetcorn and tuna by the ton. But experience has already shown that I'm not too keen on making a meal out of these ingredients. They would have to be for emergency use only. Therefore to keep my spirits up, in the event of an emergency, I need to stock a few more items of quality gourmet foods with a long shelf life. The freezers are full but in a real emergency then the electricity supply may fail - so I can't rely on frozen goodies. Also frozen foods invariably need cooking and camping stoves are not the most reliable means of cooking. Now supposing when this emergency happens there is a party of ramblers passing by who need to get indoors? Then there is no way my hoard of stock would be sufficient.
I remember being told by a friend of 'someone' who worked in Kuwait when Saddam Hussein invaded. He popped over to the British Embassy looking for shelter and support and was refused entry as "we only have enough food for ourselves". Well, I can tell you this shattered a few illusions for me. However, much you berate the USofA I just cannot imagine them saying such a thing. After all, I've seen "The Killing Fields". Half of the American population and journos visiting Vietnam were rescued from the US Embassy roof via a fleet of helicopters. However, much I am proud of being British there is no way I feel able to emulate the attitude of the British Embassy in Kuwait. I couldn't refuse refuge to a few ramblers in distress - out in the open just as an emergency happens. Therefore I need to re-think my contingency planning scheme. Any suggestions as to what I could store, that doesn't need much cooking and with a long shelf life, gratefully received. Meanwhile I'll contact the builders on Monday.