These are the finest words I think a Father could ever type.
I often write about my disability because there really isn’t many people writing and living with muscular dystrophy. I feel that it needs to be documented because the low points need to be seen rather than trying to present the “perfect parenting” or the “perfect life” within the blog.
Writing about the boys, their growth and our home education journey always looks great from post to post and I do try to show the downside of it every so often. Yet, even when I do write the fact I have muscular dystrophy often gets lost within the details as it isn’t relevant to the overall blog post therefore it is easy to miss how difficult it can be.
The truth is that it isn’t easy and I am not a regular dad. My disability makes everything more difficult; yet, I do everything most parents do day to day without moaning and without seeking praise either because in my eyes, as well as the boys, I am a normal dad.
However, some days, within the parenting madness or by when I am by myself, my MD can strike and I fall and I mean that in the literal form.
Falling isn’t great. There is a split second where you twitch or lose balance and know that you don’t have the muscle control to “land” safely. Everything around you slows down and there is literally nothing you can do about it because you don’t have the muscle strength or control; it is scary every single time.
However, I am lucky because after 20 years of struggling, having fallen thousands of times I have never knocked myself out or done any serious damage but as a single dad with 2 boys in my care I knew that just being lucky would one day run out.
Not long ago I wrote a Home Ed post on the importance of teaching children how to dial 999. I knew that it was important to learn even if it was used in a “what if” scenario.
This week proved how important it is.
I had a standard day, we went food shopping in the morning, went to a graveyard and collected pine cones and conkers for craft projects, came home, made lunch and then we continued making our sarcophagus poster before getting dinner ready. It was a standard day.
Then I twitched and that is all I really remember.
The next thing that I am conscious of is being in an awkward position on the floor, feeling dazed and holding myself up in places between 2 kitchen units. I realised that I was in pain, stuck and needing help. So I called for William.
My beautiful 7 year old boy came through to the kitchen and just said “It’s okay Daddy, I am waiting by the door for the ambulance to come” and then he trots off in a carefree nature back to the door to wait. A few seconds later the paramedics come through and helped me up, assessed me, made me comfortable, stable and talked things through.
I was fine. I was a bit battered and sore but fine.
What became apparent is that although when I fell and banged my head I wasn’t knocked out but more punch-drunk and not making sense and subsequently it caused William to take action and call for help.
He had grabbed my phone, called 999 and did everything that he needed to do; everything that I had taught him to do. Most importantly, he did it calmly, so much so that once the paramedics were here and sorting me out he asked if he could carry on helping with dinner (always my little chef) like nothing had happened. The paramedics praised how William had acted it such a brave and calm way that it had almost been as if an adult had made that phone call.
Once everything was officially settled and the paramedics left feeling happy that I was ok and it was just my muscular dystrophy playing games I, of course, rung the boys mum to let her know what happened. After explaining what the situation she was happy enough to carry on as normal with the boys remaining in my care.
Once everything was officially settled and the paramedics left feeling happy that I was ok and it was just my muscular dystrophy playing games I, of course, rung the boys mum to let her know what happened. After explaining what the situation she was happy enough to carry on as normal with the boys remaining in my care.
William was my hero. No tears, no fear and just did exactly what he was meant to do.
I know I am lucky. I know it could have been a lot worse and I would have loved for him to never have had to make that call to begin with but he knew I was in trouble and most outstandingly he used the knowledge given safely and effectively.
I know some may worry about me being in care of the boys but the truth is that disabled or not this could happen to anyone. Accidents and emergencies happen; any adult can trip and fall down a couple of stairs, stumble over their own feet or left out toys in a rush or slip on water or ice in bad weather. Anyone can injure themselves in a traditional manner let alone have something unknown occur and need emergency assistance.
I know some may worry about me being in care of the boys but the truth is that disabled or not this could happen to anyone. Accidents and emergencies happen; any adult can trip and fall down a couple of stairs, stumble over their own feet or left out toys in a rush or slip on water or ice in bad weather. Anyone can injure themselves in a traditional manner let alone have something unknown occur and need emergency assistance.
Children NEED to know what to do!
I honestly believe that William is my hero. It isn’t just because he called 999 but the fact that he was calm, logical in his thinking and did what needed to be done straight away and I admire him immensely for doing so.
Take a moment and teach the skills needed in an emergency because you never know when you might need a hero too.
If you want to see William's video about it then follow the link here.
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