Surely, in this age of cell phones and multiple means of communication, you’ve never felt helplessly unconnected. But that’s what happened to me last week..

No, there wasn’t a regional or larger breakdown of our communications network. Everything was working just fine. I retrieved my emails – all 142 new ones – as soon as I opened my account. The number is always daunting and I keep reminding myself that I need to block most of the repeat mailers. Rarely do I find something worth publishing. Yet, on the off chance of finding something, I leave it.

I quickly scrolled through the list, stopping at two of three to read the contents and import them into the system. Already the pressure of the day was starting to build. Work was piling up. Return calls and emails needed to be made even though it was only 7 a.m. and I had yet to finish my coffee.

The day was shaping up. I went through a mental list of calls or follow-ups. I pulled out my cell phone, noticing three text messages. Those could wait. I’d deal with the voice messages first. I noticed the phone was 20 percent charged. I would need to plug it in, but from experience it would first go to low battery mode and I would have a good 20 minutes, if not longer before it died.

I returned the first caller, getting a cheery “good morning” on the line. That was the conversation. The call went suddenly silent. The screen was black. There was no low battery warning. I pushed the on and off button, nothing.

I plugged in the charge cord from my computer, anticipating the red glow that the battery was flat and the charging process was taking place. No glow. I tried another charging station. The phone was dead. Now I was convinced this was more than a battery problem. Panic started to set in.

Even though we have a land line, how was I going to make calls when I couldn’t access numbers? How could I trade back and forth information critical to putting the paper together not to mention all the personal contacts, even photos all stored in that hand-held device not much larger than a credit card?

My situation triggered memories of our visit to get our first flip phone on Bald Hill Road. The store had a high tech feel. There was a sense of urgency. Shoppers were in a rush to sign contracts and get hooked up. We didn’t fit into that group, as sales representatives quickly concluded. They left us to poke around.

At some point a young couple entered. She was crying. He was loud. She had lost her phone. She needed a replacement immediately, “they” had to do something right away. This was an emergency.

I was witnessing how attached people can before to their phones and vowed that wouldn’t happen to me.

But now I was questioning how life could go on without all that is stored in that devise. I thought of how the day would come together with a land line, then realized staff member cell numbers were all stored in the dead cell…maybe even lost forever. Of course, there was a way around it.  I emailed staff for their cell numbers.

   I garnered words of sympathy as if an old friend had died and a suggestion that rejuvenated my cell. Had I tried multiple charger collection lines? I had, but on the chance that this wasn’t a lucky day, I tried another and left the phone. When I returned 20 minutes later, the screen flickered. There was life.

While relieved I wouldn’t need to get another phone, yet oddly I regretted it when the bombardment of information resumed.