This story is long, but it should be.

Last year I came across equipped.org and became a survival-kit addict. I bought a limited-edition Doug Ritter mini survival knife, two Ritter PSPs, a Leatherman, and dozens of miscellaneous items. I put together two first-aid kits. I even have orange Paracord. My wife tolerated my new hobby, my family raised their eyebrows to each other behind my back, and my friends asked, "Why?" as if I had announced I was cutting off my own foot.

I also decided that I would never, ever, regardless of the inconvenience, be without my five most essential items, even in my own home:

1. Doug's mini-whistle, on a lanyard around my neck
2. An LED flashlight
3. Doug's mini-RSK
4. A lighter
5. My cell phone

On February 25th, my wife left for a five-day business trip 400 miles away. I was planning to surprise her by painting the living room during her absence. So late that night, I fell off the ladder and destroyed my knee. I laid there for quite a while, screaming like a little girl while my leg muscles cramped so hard around my mangled knee that I wanted to die. I couldn't move a muscle without causing worse cramping. Finally, once I could breathe again, and the cramps released a little, I slowly and carefully worked my cell phone out of my pocket, pausing every few seconds to scream from the new cramps I had caused. I dropped the phone on the floor by my face so that I could talk into it, and dialed 911.

This was when I found out that we don't have 911 service in my town. Fortunately, it did connect me to someone who gave me the phone number for my local police dispatcher. I somehow memorized it and called the police.

It took about 3 years for the ambulance to arrive, and while I waited (did I mention the screaming?) I called my wife to tell her what had happened. However, my cell-phone battery was dying, giving me about 15 seconds to talk to her, and so she spent the rest of the night in a panic, wondering if she should jump in the car and drive back and what was it that was wrong with my leg, since I only had time to say, "I-hurt-my-knee-and-I'm-waiting-for-the-ambulance." For some reason, she keeps telling people about that part of the story as if it were my fault somehow.

I've been in a wheelchair for 3 months, and can't walk yet. I've had major surgery, and look forward to 9-12 more months of physical therapy, though I should make a complete recovery. And this all happened in my own living room, the last place anyone would think they'd need a survival kit.

Thanks to equipped.org, I had my mini-kit on me and was able to call for help. No one knew that I was working on a ladder. No one would have checked on me until late the next day, if then. The only landline phone in the house was cordless, and sitting on top of an upright piano, twenty feet away & five feet off the floor. I could not possibly have stood up to get it. I couldn't even begin to move without causing screaming cramps. And if I had managed to make it to the phone, the batteries in it turned out to be dead, because we rarely use it.

Things I did wrong, or notes for future reference:

1. It's hard to remember phone numbers when you're screaming. Check to see if you have 911 service (I just assumed we did), and if you don't, program the panic button on your phone (usually 9) with the proper number. Write down your emergency numbers and keep at least 2 copies, one by your corded landline phone, and one in your kit.

2. Keep your cell phone charged! It would have saved my wife a lot of worrying if I could have stayed on the line longer. Not to mention if it took me longer to get an ambulance I would have been in trouble. My backup plan was to blow my whistle all the next day in hopes that the mailman would hear it.

3. Keep a sturdy, corded phone in your house where it can be reached from the floor. Even if you can't reach it, the cord will let you pull it off a table, and it won't have any batteries to go dead.

4. Yes, you can be stranded and helpless in your own living room!

5. I saved two of my pain pills from the emergency room to keep in my kit. If I find myself in a similar situation with no rescue, I want relief from pain while I wait.

6. Ladders are for the suicidal!

Though I was in no risk of dying and so this may not count as a real survival story, it was plenty miserable, and though I only used my cell phone, and not real survival items, the only reason it was in my pocket was because of you guys. Thanks for convincing me to carry a mini-kit at all times. I was equipped enough to help myself. Next time, I'll do even better.

P.S. How on earth do people manage to crawl down mountains with broken legs?