LIVE BY DESIGN | In case of Emergency – Let’s get practical

How often do we see the signs “In Case of Emergency.”

They are in the corridors in the workplace near the fire extinguishers.

There is a notice in every lift we step into.

There are the signs in the aeroplane indicating the seats with the emergency exits.

But what about carrying “in case of emergency” information on our person?

Last week, I was the single driver on a six-hour journey returning to Johannesburg. I had three pit stops planned: leg stretches and coffee breaks. As usual, driving the N4 highway means travelling alongside haulage trucks, many carrying timber.

I drove up a hill, slowing down to approach my first stop, an orchid nursery with delicious coffee. I noticed a fast-approaching vehicle in the overtaking lane – an articulated haulage truck zipping along without a load. Simultaneously, I spotted a large log in the road ahead of the truck. I watched aghast as the truck’s front left tyre clipped the edge of the log. Like playing tiddlywinks, the log flipped up high and flew through the air towards me.

Pfaff. A loud bang. Tiny shards of glass hit my face. The passenger side of my windscreen was shattered. I watched the truck continue on its way, apparently oblivious to the accident it had just caused. Lucky for me, while the car took the impact, I was able to keep steady on the road.

A bit shaken, I stopped for an hour. It was a day when I did not need to hurry. I took some Rescue Remedy. The orchid stall staff were immensely kind. They had a roll of wide, clear tape and did a great job placing strips over the windscreen, inside and out, and over the damaged area. I was able to continue my journey.

At my next stop, I called the insurance company (the details are on a post-it in the glove compartment). I gave my policy number, and I received an e-mail with the claim number details when I arrived in Johannesburg.

For a few days, I walked around with gratitude, feeling the angels were on my side. Our building handyman looked at my vehicle and said, “God has his ways. It was not your time.”

Sitting at my desk on Monday morning, I thought again about what had happened. I had had the insurance company contact numbers – in case of a hijack, in case of a crash. But what about at-the-ready contact details of my beloved nearest and dearest? If I had not been so lucky, if I had crashed badly, if I had been unconscious in my vehicle, how would emergency services have known who to contact?

And what about if things were so bad that I had been rushed to the nearest ICU – how were they to know that I have a Do Not Resuscitate order, an Advance Directive, and a named Health care proxy to make decisions on my behalf?

I immediately created a stiff wallet card – with the words “Emergency Contacts” highlighted. I wrote down five names and five mobile numbers: my husband, my elder daughter, my younger daughter, my health care proxy, and my GP – he has a copy of my Do Not Resuscitate order on file.

I am going to do one more thing. I am going to copy what a doctor friend of mine living in London has done. When you enter his house and pass the entrance hall table, you notice an A4 envelope with his name and “In case of Emergency” written in exceptionally large bold letters. This envelope contains his Living Will.

I never liked looking at this envelope when I was a house guest. It shouts at you as you arrive. But I am now more convinced than before that practicality should trump aesthetics.

I have one final thing to work through – my Purple File and our LoveLegacyDignity Checklist for Checking Out. Go to our website, www.lovelegacydignity; the Purple File is freely downloadable. It has been a couple of years since I last did it, and an update is needed.

Next week, Mapi and I are off on our “friendship adventure,” a long-planned trip to Vietnam. If something were to happen to the two of us, who would take over LoveLegacyDignity? Nomfundo, the baton will be yours to pick up. Yes, we have completed the submission of the NPO documentation.

What is one of the things I fear the most? Posthumous embarrassment. Yes, I know it is laughable, as I do not expect to be able to listen to the possible scathing comments. But don’t you agree, it would be so embarrassing to have been such a crusading advocate of Paperwork and affairs in order and then to be found to have fallen short of expectations?

I fear not showing up and not living according to what we at LoveLegacyDignity advocate. I feel an obligation to be exemplary and to practice what we preach. My affairs are in order, and my house is decluttered.

I hope you, too, will be convinced to act. Create a wallet card. Place your Advance Directive in a visible place. I also sincerely hope they will not be needed in the near future!