Ill Communication - May 7, 2013

Ill CommunicationFive years ago, if you had asked me whether I needed a cell phone to feel connected to the outside world, I would have said, “no f#^*ing way!”  If you had asked me whether I needed a cell phone to feel safe or when injured, I would have said, “I can walk to the local hospital or run to the nearest police station and, if not, I know how to hail a cab fast.”  I would have said, “If someone really wants to reach me, then they can call my home phone and leave a message.  If it’s not a medical emergency, then it’s not that important.”


Then, I had a kid and my cell phone became a necessity.  It became just as essential, as a sippy cup full of water on a day trip.  It became my own version of 911 for my daughter’s well being.


Today, after 3 ½ hours at the park, I was dislodging Babyface from her car seat and I accidentally dropped my iPhone onto the ground.  I can’t tell you the countless number of times I’ve dropped my cell phone from much higher places.  I’ve even flung it off the countertop, by accident, and never damaged it.


Previously, I always gave kudos to Apple for its durability.  Today, I find myself cursing Apple for not giving away OtterBox Defender caseswith a proof of purchase.  $$$ for a phone should buy me a simple, unbreakable, childproof case, right?  They have a Family Plan, but what about a SAHM plan?  The mommy fog makes us more vulnerable to simple accidents, right?


Well, my clumsiness has caught up with me.  This simple fall, from the base of the car entry to the ground, caused it to crack.  Shatter, is more like it.   Tiny shards of glass surrounded me.  Any communication with the outside world was cut-off in a matter of seconds.


Normally, I wouldn’t freak out about the tiny device that sucks away my free time, but then I thought of all of the times I would be out-and-about without Babyface. Her caretakers would be unable to reach me at a moments notice.  It would be like self-inflicted agoraphobia, until I could find a replacement.


What if she falls at school and I’m out getting groceries, I thought.  What if the school can’t reach me at a moments notice?  What if my mother hasn’t memorized my phone number, due to the ease of saving numbers in smartphones and a lack of necessity to remember numbers?


I, frantically, called AT&T to see if I was eligible for an upgrade.  $649 for a new iPhone seemed pretty steep.  Would I need to downgrade to a basic calling and texting phone, just to make sure I could be reached?


My husband works in the city.  What if he needs to reach me?  Every horrible, bad-case scenario flooded my mind.  I even invented some scenarios that will remain under mental lock and key.  They’re as embarrassing as some of my medical Google searches.


Luckily, I’m due for an upgrade and can get a phone that offers texting and emailing, but the fear that this simple shattered device had instilled in me is, well…ridiculous.  After I reasoned with myself.  After I talked myself down from the fear of being technically, wirelessly disconnected from the world, I realized that most caretakers would be smart enough to do what I would do in a time of Babyface crisis (at least I would hope).  I also realized that I needed to chill the f#^* out because the AT&T store would be open at 10 am tomorrow morning!


And, this is why my emergency kit has a cell phone charger…


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