TRAPPED!

I am still shaking from my ordeal, but at last I have regained my composure and can write about this.  My worst nightmare was realized this morning as I went in to help Mom get up and get dressed.  I walked into a big puddle on the floor as I greeted Mom.  Once again she had removed her diapers during the night and had proceeded to pee on the floor.  That, in and of itself would have been bad enough; but let me back up for a moment to explain:

Skip is out of town.  He left this morning to do some work in South Carolina.  I was awakened by his alarm going off at 5:00 AM.  As he quietly got dressed I remained awake.  When he whispered goodbye to me I sat up and looked at the clock.  5:30 AM!  Oh Joy!  I was awake and couldn't go back to sleep.  I walked out of the bedroom to get a cup of coffee and sit in the family room enjoying the quiet.  It was only for a moment.  Already, Mom was stirring in her room. I listened to her moving items around on her dresser.  It was dark outside and out of principle I would not go get Mom until the sun was up.  She would have to wait.  At least now, with the lock on her door I didn't have to worry that she might become impatient and walk out of her room to try to descend the stairs and go to breakfast, as she had done before.  We had resisted locking her in for a few years, but now, with her worsened condition of late stages Alzheimer's it was necessary for her own safety to keep her contained.

I continued to sip my coffee luxuriating in the the moment of relative quiet.  The dog was still asleep, Skip was gone so the morning news wasn't on.  Mom seemed to have sat back down and was fidgeting with the sheets so all I heard from upstairs coming over the monitor was the sound of fabric being folded. (It is one of Mom's favorite activities--folding her sheets and blanket.)

The clock ticked the minutes away and as I played a few puzzle games on my tablet, checked my email, social media pages, and calendar, I also watched the sunrise.  It promised to be a pleasant morning.  I reminded myself of the early morning call I was making to two new agents who needed some advice before beginning to work with clients.  I wanted to allow enough time to get my mother dressed, fed and "settled" before accessing my conference call. I decided at 7 AM that I would go up to get Mom.  That takes me back to where I started.

I opened the door and entered.   Mom was eager to get dressed and we did so quickly.  I scouted around to find where she had hidden her diapers.  They were in her walker and as I removed them I remembered to spray the interior storage compartment with Lysol. I was determined to not let anything bother me today.  Then I walked her to the door.  I moved the wet mop I had used to clean her floor back out of the way, held the wet diaper in the plastic bag gagging just a little over the foul odor, and pushed on the door lever.  The door didn't open!  I pushed harder and then realized that the lock was still engaged from the outside.  There was no way to open the door.  We were locked in.  I began to panic but then thought that I could find something to open the door through the small hole I could access to disengage the lock.  Then I remembered that this was the only door in the house that had a one-way lock with no hole on the other side.  My heart sank.  There was no way out.  Skip was gone.  Our dog, Kira was not the kind of 'hero' dog to come to our rescue.  Our son was no longer living in the apartment, having left for Colorado.  His girlfriend, Christina was now the only occupant and she was still asleep.  Nevertheless I began knocking on the door and yelling for her.  There was no response. I continued knocking and yelling.  Now Mom joined in as well.  It must have been fun for her because she was really getting into it!
"Help!"  she yelled with gusto.
"Christina!" I bellowed.  "Save me!"
The house remained quiet.  I looked around wildly hoping that I could find some means to help me escape.  The smell was nauseating and I envisioned dying of asphyxiation. (Could the smell of Old Lady Pee kill me?) "HELP!" I shouted in earnest.  "HELP, HELP, HELLLLLLLLLLLLPPPPP!"
I was now panicking and pounded on the door.  It shook the walls as I continued to pound and scream.  I stopped and listened assuring myself that I would hear the sounds of footsteps on the other side of the door coming to my aid.  Sadly, the house remained silent.  I rested a moment and then began my pounding and shouting again.My level of panic rose to new heights. Maybe Christina was already up and out the door on her way to work, possibly running an errand first which would explain an early departure. What if she didn't get home until late tonight.  I tried to remember if she had mentioned anything to me about being gone for the weekend. 

"Oh no, oh no!" I cried to myself.  "I could be stuck here for two days!"  I wondered f Skip would call when he arrived in South Carolina.  If I didn't answer would he assume that I was taking our dog out and not call back?  It might take him until the evening to call me again as was often the case when he was working.  When would he begin to worry?  Would his concern cause him to take action?  What would he do?  Who would he call next to check on me?  Whose phone number did he have on his phone?  All of these thoughts were running through my brain at lightening speed knowing that Skip was the king of not memorizing anyone's phone numbers and even if he had a person to call, how would they get into the house?  Now the reality of the impossible situation sank in.  Mom and I were unlikely roommates for the duration until someone returned home and discovered that I wasn't there.  By then, I might be lying unconscious on the floor (from the aforementioned asphyxiation or from an stress produced embolism, or from a conniption fit!)  Whimpering helplessly I collapsed on a chair and looked at my mother who was pacing like a caged animal. It was only a matter of minutes before she would realize that she was not being fed her breakfast; and for those who know my mother or who have read previous blog posts they will realize that nothing...NOTHING stands in the way her food.  She has an appetite of a hungry bear and a disposition to accompany that. 

"Why can't we go?" Mom asked.
"The door is locked. Just go sit down on your bed."
Mom nodded and proceeded to pace in circles.
"Why can't we go?" she asked again.
"The door is locked." I repeated.
"Oh."  She paced in a circle then asked one more time, "Why can't we go?"
"AURGH!  Christina!!!" I shouted desperately.  I began pounding on the wall.  "CHRISTINA...HELP ME, HELP ME...HELLLLLPPPPPP!"

The minutes ticked away.  I thought of people trapped in a building collapse, an earthquake, a mine disaster, an avalanche.  I thought of their futile cries for help as rescue teams searched for them.  I thought of them running out of oxygen and becoming weaker and weaker until their cries became inaudible.  My hand hurt from pounding.  My throat was scratchy from my screaming.  My voice was hoarse.  My rescuers would never find me.

My imagination was now running wild and still, my will to survive kept me pounding and yelling.  Hours passed (or at least it seemed that way to me.)  I knew that there wasn't much time left. (Okay...perhaps a bit dramatic of me but I was thinking that I was going to miss my conference call!) I was certain of it now.  I gave one last pound on the door, yelling my head off.  Suddenly there was a small voice on the other side of the door.  Oh miracle of miracles!
"Jessica?  Is that you?" 
"OH MY GOD...YES!  It's me.  Let me out.  I'm locked in!"
Christina opened the door and I practically fell on top of her scrambling to get some fresh air.  I know that I looked like a mad woman as I hastened to explain, between gasps what had happened.  Christina told me that she hadn't heard a thing until just then when she thought that she heard construction noise from the home that is being built next door.  Then as she awakened she thought that she heard a voice and thought that it didn't sound like construction workers.  That's when she decided to go check and see where the noise was coming from. Oh how fortunate.  I was so happy to be free that I almost forgot to get Mom. As an afterthought I went back to extract her from her room.  Then I gave one long blast of Lysol room deodorizer, sprayed the sheets with Fabreze extra strength leaving the room in a cloud of chemical neutralizers and went downstairs. 

Sadly, there will be no news reporters, no book deals, no survivor stories.  In fact, the entire incident would go completely unnoticed if not for this account. Christina was laughing so hard I knew that she would never support my claims of a near death experience. Alas, I stood on the precipice of disaster and no one even noticed.  When at last I stumbled to the phone to call Skip to report that I was safe, he hadn't even missed me.  He was still driving and was more concerned about telling me that he had received a speeding ticket.
"A speeding ticket?!  Oh no.  I am so sorry!" I told him, almost forgetting about my ordeal. My crisis was overshadowed. 

Darn it!  How could he trump me with a speeding ticket?!  Life is just soooo unfair.