Does anyone else ever feel too polite for their own good? It is a quintessentially British thing to be. Have you ever had that moment when you and a stranger have reached a small space that you both want to squeeze through and the “after you” comment passes between you about three or four times before someone finally gives in and moves first?

Well I am definitely too polite for my own good. I don’t want to put people out, to distract them from their own plan. If I am honest, I hate to ask for help but even when it is offered, I do talk the person out of helping me and I do not know how! My autopilot mode seems to want me to be seriously challenged!

One such example of this was a recent incident at work. I was strolling through the corridor after recently arriving at work and was on my way to make a peppermint tea and fill my water bottle before heading to my desk. Apparently my feet had other ideas!

I could feel myself tilting backwards slightly so I put my walking stick down just behind me and this seemed to help me regain my balance. But then for some reason I tilted forward, much faster this time. So I tilted backwards and forwards for a little while like a Weeble, rescued each time by my walking stick then just at the point where I thought I had resolved the balance issue, I started to fall backwards.

I gave in. I landed neatly on the floor without hurting anything but my pride. A man appeared round the doorway and enquired whether I was OK. There I was, lying on my back in the middle of the floor politely saying “yes, I’m absolutely fine”.

“Do you need any help?” he asked.

“No, no. Just a couple of minutes and I will be back on my feet again”.

These are the words that came out of my mouth but in my head I was screaming “what are doing??!! How exactly do you plan on getting back to your feet?!”

I should mention at this point that I was wearing a rucksack so looked a bit like a turtle stuck on it’s shell! My attempts to sit up were futile. I did manage to struggle out of the straps eventually and into a seated position.

This man was very nice and would not leave, he said he would stay beside me until I was OK again. I just wanted the ground to swallow me whole. I am used to falling and when in embarrassing situations, you do just want to be left alone but I could work out how to get up again.

I tried bending my legs but they were stunned by my fall and the spasticity would not let them bend. I asked the man if he could get me a chair to clamber up. He kindly brought one to me. The first part of the clamber up the chair was very successful, I had pulled myself up and my weight was now on my arms so that I could focus on sorting my legs out.

Except I couldn’t bend my legs or move them closer to me so I was stuck in the planking position on this chair for a good ten minutes. Now I didn’t know that I could do a plank so ten minutes for my first attempt is pretty impressive but I had too much on my mind at this point to feel pride.

Without warning, my legs started to relax and I was able to climb to my feet again. The lovely man insisted a sat down for a few minutes to recover and he asked if I wanted a cup of water. I politely declined, even though my tongue felt like a sheet of sandpaper stuck to the roof of my mouth.

“What is wrong with you??!” my internal monologue shrieked at me!

I made it to my desk without any further trouble and sank my head into my hands, exhausted after the morning that I had so far. And still a day of work ahead of me!

See what I mean, I am literally sprawled on the floor and when offered help, I politely say that I am OK like I normally sprawl out on the floor at work. Eejit!

My next story doesn’t involve falling, but it is still the same level of pride involved. I have a rule at work, if I am going to get my own drink, I use cups with lids. So I have a lovely cup that keeps my peppermint tea warm for about 3 hours and a sports bottle that I use for water.

A fool-proof plan, but I am more foolish than I thought. On this particular day, I had left them both at home. I got to my desk and thought that I was actually having a reasonably good mobility day so I would get myself a cup of water. It would have been sheer stupidity to attempt to fetch a hot drink but I was happy to carry cold water.

I went to the drinks machine and proudly poured myself a lovely cup of cold water. I had two offers from colleagues who wanted to carry the drink back to my desk for me but I insisted that I would be fine.

So I set off on my epic journey with my lovely cup of water. What an adventure that journey was. The distance seemed three times longer than normal, the floor seemed incredibly uneven. By the time I made it back to my desk, I had a third of the cup of water left and I hadn’t drank a drop! My colleague kindly went back to the machine and brought me two cups back. They arrived full.

There is a moral to these stories: there is a time and a place for pride but when you are sprawled on the floor or facing a mini tidal wave on the journey back to your desk, let people help you. They offered after all, you didn’t ask them for help. Even polite people need help sometimes!