One dead battery caused me quite a bit of grief last month. It was a normal weekday morning, with my regular attendant scheduled to arrive before 7 a.m. (I know that’s late, but I’m semi-retired now). It was still dark at that time, at least in my bedroom, but I was awake at the allotted time of arrival. Amazingly, he didn't walk through the front door on schedule. In fact, things were about to get worse.

My front door is opened by a door opener that is operated with a digital touchpad mounted on the outside wall. Like many things in our lives, it is powered by a battery. On that particular morning, the battery went dead without advance warning. Under normal circumstances that wouldn't be that “big a deal.” I would have a spare key hidden somewhere near the front door, or I could simply call a nearby family member to bring a key to the house to open the door. That wasn't the case on that fateful day, and the reason things got worse was entirely my fault.

When I moved into my new house early this year, I didn't change the battery in the door opener control when I reinstalled it. I also hadn't gotten around to hiding a key in the front yard. There would be plenty of time for that later, or so I presumed. I have also gotten in the habit of using my cell phone for most telephone conversations during the day, so this particular attendant had never called me on my home phone. He actually didn't know how to reach me on my landline phone when I didn't have access to my cell phone.

By coming around to the back of the house and hollering through the window, my attendant was finally able to call me on my phone. My normal backup family members were unavailable as well, as my brother was fishing and one daughter was on a business trip. The other daughter’s phone was apparently turned off for the night. After repeated phone calls, she was contacted and delivered the spare key.

Over an hour late, my attendant finally began the day's routine which allows me to get up and about. No harm was done, and a spare key is now hidden near the front door. All of my attendants now have a card that contains all of my contact information.

Due to the nature of our disabilities, are some of us who live alone considered to be “risk-takers?” Independent living requires us to plan for the unexpected, and to be prepared for most types of emergencies. The presence of a disability can complicate many situations that other households might not consider threatening.

If we are unable to get out of bed without assistance, we can't get up to answer the door. If we live in a rural environment, will it be possible for caregivers to reach us in the event of a major storm or similar emergency? Who will build a fire in the fireplace or start a generator if the power goes out during the winter? If your telephone line uses the same fiber optic cables as the television, how would you call out when the power or cable television is out?

Do you have plenty of food and water available in the house if you get stranded for days during emergencies? Do your neighbors know enough, or how, to check on you if they see no movement around your house on a particular day? I know that none of us like nosy neighbors, but they might be just what the doctor ordered when things go bad. For those of us who live alone we need to have answers for all of those situations.

Maintaining communication at all times is probably the biggest factor when it comes to our safety. When I'm in my wheelchair I have my cell phone with me, and I can also reach a couple of telephone sets that are at different places in the house. At night, there is always a speakerphone lying next to me on with a list of important numbers taped to it. Unless we forget, there is also a touch light lying next to the phone, so I can read those numbers.

We owe it to our loved ones to minimize the risks of living independently. Preparation for emergencies of any type, and a backup plan to use when systems fail, can reduce the “worry factor” and help avoid the complications that might occur when things go wrong. Take a look around your environment, and see if there are any risk factors that you might be able to eliminate. It's worth the effort, trust me.

© 2010 Michael Collins