During breathing treatments I have racked up 1,230 wins in solitaire. Last week I added a few more wins in an unexpected way. I was stuck in a small elevator. For the first twenty minutes, I repeatedly punched the alarm bell stopping only when my friend on the outside said that she knew I was in there and they would get me out. Time passed and as it got hot I used my old take your mind to something else trick to forget the heat and the fact that I had been trapped a long time —I took out my iPhone and played solitaire. Won a few games and lost a couple. Then I called a friend and two of my children.
People outside the elevator asked if I was okay and said they hadn’t been able to get it going and were sending for the elevator repairman. My reputation for wheelchair pockets for every thing under the sun kept me in good stead since I had a flashlight, bottled water, peppermints for my diabetes, and a wheelchair that reclines if I wanted a nap. I played some more solitaire. During this time the button lights went off and on a few times, and the elevator cage lurched a bit. I didn’t worry about a big fall down the shaft because I was stuck only between floors two and three. After way over an hour, the cables engaged, I moved and the doors opened to welcoming persons bearing cold water. They were just ready to call the fire department to rescue me when the cage moved. They said the firemen would tear out the wall! Now that would have been a hoot. And I’ve always liked sirens.
A point to be made: someone in a power wheelchair cannot climb up and out those cute little openings in the top of an elevator. Standing, lifting, pulling up. Shoot, I can’t even lift my arms up to properly comb my hair. Maybe all power chairs should have little mounted power ladders attached to the back. Think I’ll patent that.