My neighbor Joe was rarely without a hip flask during Prohibition, and, while a hip flask eventually went out of vogue, he didn't change his drinking habits as he aged. Joe was a functioning alcoholic – he, and everyone who knew him, was well aware of that fact. He was also brilliant, inventive and funny. He had reached 87 years, and had no desired to quit drinking. His wife had died a few years before, and, as his neighbor, I'd become his primary caregiver. His one son lived half-way across the country.
During the time I was caring for Joe, I'd set up a personal alarm system, so he would get help if he fell or needed assistance for any reason. He had the necklace variety, and generally wouldn't wear it until I hung it around his neck during my daily visit, generally around the noon hour. Many times I was grateful for that alarm, as Joe would fall often, due to his early deafness and accompanying ear problems, and of course, also due to his alcohol consumption. When he fell, he knew to push the button on his alarm. The alarm would notify a dispatch center and they would call me to check on him. I'd run over, and usually, with the help of a chair and me tugging on him, we'd get him up off the floor.
So, when my phone rang one evening as I was fixing supper, and the dispatcher told me Joe had set off his wrist alarm, it was nothing new. The sun was low and cold as I ran across our snowy yards and through his doorway. I'd just left him a few hours before, and had monitored his lights as he went about his house in the dusky afternoon. That was one way I'd keep tabs on him. I knew his habits. I'd noticed he had started his supper, and then I didn't see him, but generally he'd watch TV for awhile before he ate.