I’ve been single most of my life – and a single mom on top of that. Not complaining, not lamenting, not wishing it different. Just setting the stage. Because when you’re the only adult in the room, you learn very quickly that you are the cavalry, the logistics department, and the emotional support animal all rolled into one.
Take the night I shot awake with excruciating back pain. Not the “I slept weird” kind. The “oh no, this is how I die” kind. I didn’t know what was happening, but I knew it wasn’t good. So, I did what single moms do: grabbed my daughter, grabbed my purse, and hauled myself to the ER like a woman possessed.
By some miracle, the son of one of my parents’ coworkers was working that night. He swooped in, took my little girl under his wing, and let me focus on the small matter of not collapsing. Turns out I was having a gallbladder attack – my first, and let me tell you, not an experience I recommend. I was shocked, unprepared, and very aware that I had nothing with me except my child and a handbag full of receipts and gum wrappers.
Fast Forward to Today
Today I’m a woman of a more mature age – which is a polite way of saying I’ve lived enough life to know better. My mother, bless her, has had a few falls and now spends more time in hospitals and rehab facilities than either of us would like. And as her daughter, I’m there. Sitting by her bed. Keeping her company. Running home for chargers, sweaters, snacks, and anything else that makes a sterile room feel less like a spaceship.
And let me tell you: whether you’re the patient or the visitor, you want creature comforts. You want the things that make you feel human. You want the stuff that keeps you from losing your mind at 2 a.m. under fluorescent lighting.
So naturally, my brain – the same brain that once sprinted to the ER with nothing but a child and a purse – started prepping. Because that’s what I do. I overthink, and then I prepare.
And that brings me to this public service announcement.
Whether you’re single and living alone, or partnered with someone who cannot be trusted to pick out the right underwear in a crisis (no judgment, but also… judgment), this post is for you.
Not Just Any Bag
I’m talking about pre‑packing a hospital bag.
But not just a hospital bag – a life bag. A “go” bag. A “bug‑out” bag. A “my body likes to surprise me” bag. A “my mom fell again” bag. A “wildfires are a thing” bag. A “hurricanes don’t care about my schedule” bag. A “my significant other would absolutely bring me the wrong bra” bag.
Some people live in disaster‑prone areas.
Some people have chronic‑illness family members.
Some people spend half their lives in waiting rooms.
Some people just like to be ready.
And some of us? We’ve lived enough plot twists to know better.
Whatever your reason, I’ve curated a list to help you build your own “just in case” bag — something you can keep by the door or in your car so you’re never caught off guard again.
Because preparation isn’t paranoia.
It’s love.
It’s wisdom.
It’s experience.
And sometimes, it’s the difference between chaos and calm.
The Ultimate “Just in Case” Go‑Bag Checklist
Because when life decides to get dramatic, you deserve to be comfortable, hydrated, moisturized, and wearing underwear you actually approve of.
Personal Essentials
- A list of your medications and prescriptions
- A list of your allergies
- Glasses
- Hearing aids
- Phone charger
- Pen and notepad
Hygiene & Comfort
- Toothbrush and toothpaste
- Kleenex
- Eyedrops
- Q‑tips
- Chapstick
- Wet wipes
- Dry shampoo
- Lotion
- Brush or comb
- Hair clip
Clothing & Cozy Items
- Undies (the good ones, not the laundry‑day ones)
- Pajamas
- Grippy socks
- Sweat‑suit
- Leggings
- Blanket
Snacks & Hydration
- Mints or gum
- Snacks (the kind that won’t melt, crumble, or betray you)
- Water bottle
Entertainment & Sanity Savers
- Book, Kindle, or deck of cards
- Crossword or puzzle book
One Final Note for the Uber‑Prepared
And for those of you who like to operate at Level 10 Preparedness – the people who alphabetize their spices and know exactly where their passport is at all times – here’s a little bonus tip.
Grab a brightly colored envelope. Neon, glittery, impossible‑to‑miss – whatever speaks to your soul. Write EMERGENCY on the front in big, bold letters. Then tuck inside all your essential medical information: medications, allergies, emergency contacts, anything first responders might need to know. Attach it to your refrigerator or your door frame so EMS can grab it as they grab you.
It’s simple. It’s smart. And it means that even in the middle of chaos, the information that matters most is right where it needs to be.
Hopefully we will all stay healthy, upright, hydrated, moisturized, and far away from hospital beds. And maybe this will all be for nothing. But just in case life decides to throw a plot twist – you’ll be ready. Because that’s what we do. We prepare. We love. We show up for ourselves and the people we care about.
And honestly? That’s a kind of peace money can’t buy.
Let’s Have a Conversation:
Do you like to be prepared for emergency or crisis situations? What have you packed in your emergency bag?