“oh no” I am locked out.

Last Thursday night, I had just finished my dinner, chicken tenderloin, broccoli, bacon and tomato and had polished off  a glass of pinot noir, so I was feeling pretty relaxed. The living room blinds were open and I was watching the last of an episode of The Walking Dead, I had been binging on the Dead for a couple of weeks now. I enjoy watching the survivors who are far more dangerous than the zombies and have been watching it from the beginning.

Little did I know it, my world, my comfortable little world was about to implode. Everything that I knew or thought I knew, came crashing down. The thing is, for the last 3 months or so I have been building my strength at the gym and I was getting stronger than I thought. Liz and I pride our selves on our air tight home security, but now I get to really test it out. I was just starting to relax when I saw that the washing had not been brought in.

I grab  the key to the rear sliding doors, opened the door, walked out and grabbed the washing, then went to open the door again. But wait! Why won’t it open? I must be dreaming, what the “@#$*”. I was locked out. I had pulled the door to shut when I went out onto the deck, but it was too hard. The door slid home and slammed shut, causing the hook of the lock to shut. “Oh wow” I thought there was no hidden key in the garden, I soon realised that I was well and truly locked out. On the border line of panic, I calmed down and began to go through my options.

The biggest problem was, I did not have my mobile phone. So all of my contacts, like lock smiths, were inaccessible. What about Liz? She was staying  at her mums near Penrith, but how was I going to contact her with out a phone. I was stuffed and if I did not sort something out soon, I would be sleeping under the stars.

So I went to my next door neighbours place who are always kind and polite. They have 3 young children, like most of the old houses in my street. Gone are the nonnas. When I first moved into this street, I was surrounded by Italian grandmothers. And slowly one by one they moved on. Most sold their houses and new owners, have young children. It is an amazing feeling now, A youthful exuberance has crept into the neighbourhood. I pressed the buzzer to the door and 2 young children greeted me followed by Dad with a look of concern on his face.

Now you all know that I have Parkinsons disease, and 8pm is not a good time for me. I play a game of cat and mouse most days between the PD and the medication. The score is pretty even, but I do relish the good days. The medication starts to wear off at around 8pm. A few years back, I braved DBS. That is deep brain stimulation. Yes it is as bad as it sounds. For 6 hours, 2 x 150mm probes are very carefully placed deep in my brain. The results are astounding, I have not had any shakes for almost 4 years but the down side of DBS is it can effect your speech.

So by the time the kids dad had made his way to the front door, my voice was a series of grunts and moans. Luckily for me he is very compassionate. I got out that I needed to use  his phone. But Liz does not pick up when she sees a new number on her phone. After 10 attempts she finally answered the phone. I had taken a minute step to regaining my life back.

Wow, How hopeless we are with out our mobile phone, complete with contacts, email and of course social media. I waited for over an hour for Liz to come home. During that time my  mind was on over drive. It took the default position of catastrophe. What if Liz never makes it home, blag blah blah. Though I have to say, I was really pleased when I  saw her pull in front of the house. Lesson learned, I have been so focused on the security of the house that I had forgotten a golden rule. Make sure you can get into your home, always.