Nah, it’s nothing like that. See, I have this incredibly bizarre linen closet that was built into an old stairwell going up. The steps are still there, but the top part has been boarded over. To reach the closet, you have to climb IN the bathtub. Then of course you have to step from the end of the tub onto the old landing to reach the stairs and added shelves.
I truly love this closet! In a small, old house with little storage space, this was a wonderful discovery when I bought the place. However, I think you can imagine the difficulty of getting into it with MS, or middle-agedness, or even just an ounce of common sense. Frequently-used items are carefully organized so that I can reach them while still in the tub. It’s those uncommon, desperation/emergency type things that go on the stairs and can’t be reached unless you crawl inside. And then you have to go up the steps that are piled with towels and toilet paper and random household goods that won’t fit anywhere else. Did I mention that I have MS and am prone to wobbly legs and blurred vision? I seem to have forgotten that for a bit.
I got halfway up the steps, found what I needed, and then couldn’t get back down. I was stuck there with one leg dangling in the air because I couldn’t figure out where to put it. With the added shelves and my considerable girth, there’s no space to turn around. I yelled for my son, who was in the next room. And then I yelled again. And then I started pounding on the wall with a wrench. I knew that the closet was heavily fortified by layers of plaster, horsehair, and who knows what all else, but until that moment I had no idea that it was built like a tomb. I had visions of being found there days from now (OK; probably around midnight when my son finally realized that the dog hadn’t moved from the bathroom doorway).
I eventually managed to turn my head far enough that Son finally heard me yelling. He came running in a panic, convinced that I’d hurt myself, and he wasn’t at all amused that I was standing there laughing at him arguing with the dog, who refused to get out of his way. I honestly have no idea how I got up those stairs in the first place, because he had to move several items just to help me get back down. I’m still laughing hysterically about it all several hours later, but Son may not forgive the near heart attack I gave him. 😇
oh my! Lol!
Glad you are ok!