Been up since 4.45 when my darling husband decided it was time to swing his legs over the bars of his bed. I saw him on the monitor so ran downstairs, ( 3rd time since midnight) and he refused to get his legs back into bed. Fearing another colitis "explosion" and as he was not getting back, I decided I'd have to get him on the commode. Unfortunately, after his acrobatics on the bar, he was too near the edge of the bed and gently slipped to the floor. After failing to get him onto the elk, I dialled 999 at 5.00 am. I wedged him round with pillows, put a fleece blanket over him, turned on the TV and ran upstairs to get dressed. I know I could have stayed in my PJs but feel more in control in proper clothes. The paramedics arrived just as I got my undies on, 12 minutes after my call. Trousers on and running downstairs putting my Tshirt on after spraying deodorant onto unwashed underarms, ugh! I let in two lovely paramedics. They used the Elk and got Colin onto the commode, no explosions so hopefully the steroids are kicking in. The carer came to shower him at 7 am and I am now also clean. I've given Colin his breakfast and I am now going to cook myself a full English fry up, toast, marmalade and coffee to follow, blow the calories, I need comfort food.