My worst nightmare used to be going to school only to find my uniform was made out of newspaper. Many years later, I'm living what I now understand is my worst nightmare - life without cellular services.
Of course, you may think my initial school uniform nightmare was a far sight better than the more common walking-naked-down-the-street version. However, I would like to point out that it was always raining in my earlier dreams.
Coincidently, this resonates with my current nightmare. Right now, I am in the beautiful - dare I say, heavenly - city of Seoul, in South Korea. Here, the people are polite; the service quick and tipping frowned upon. Nevertheless, I am visiting this ancient city as monsoon season begins to ease and the rain is constant.
All the same, it is not the rain trickling down the hotel window that has me succumbing to dark thoughts - it is my lack of cellular access.
Adult blankies
Like my youthful iterations, this nightmare caught me quite by surprise.
On arrival at Incheon airport, I turned on my cellphone fully expecting to roam on one of the country's mobile providers. After an hour I realised that something was quite, quite wrong; I was halfway to the city and still no signal!
No doubt there is some logical explanation for this scenario and it probably has a lot to do with signals, bandwidths and frequencies. Nevertheless, the rationality of a scenario is never much comfort for one who is stuck without relief for a newfound addiction.
How would I call home and tell my family that I had arrived safely? What would happen to the daily SMSes to my husband to confirm the kids were still alive? Could I live without a constant lifeline to family, friends, colleagues and industry insiders? What would I hold in my hand as I strode purposefully to my next important interview?
Cold turkey
My cellphone has become more of a partner to me than a communications tool.
Kimberly Guest, senior journalist, ITWeb
Like most addicts suffering withdrawal symptoms, it took me a while to notice my surroundings - specifically, the group of youngsters I was travelling with. This foursome, each in their early twenties - supposedly tied to the plethora of tech and mobile offerings - would surely give me the sympathy I so desperately craved and deserved?
Not so. As I shared my sad lament at my communications loss, one brave youth couldn't help but protest, "but aren't you on Facebook?"
Other suggestions followed close on its heels: What about MSN? Google Talk? Skype? E-mail? A phone booth?
The last suggestion struck me hard. Here I was thinking I was open-minded about the various technologies on offer. Instead, it appears I have become somewhat of a technocrat; opting only to use the current and shunning the old faithfuls.
Enter rehab
It's been just five days into my week-long trip to Korea and I find myself exposed, even naked.
The truth is my cellphone has become more of a partner to me than a communications tool. Like an addict, I find relief in knowing that it is hiding at the bottom of my purse should I ever need to make contact with the outside world.
In my mind, I can hear a therapist suggesting "we" look at ways to reduce this dependence and avoid future trauma.
It's good advice. I may still steer away from Facebook; but, I am learning to consider other communication channels before reaching for my cellphone. E-mail is good, as is Skype and a basket of other technology solutions. Thanks to one of the kindly students, I even have a Worldcall card, which will mean my calls home won't require a second mortgage.
Most importantly though, I know the best way to avoid this situation is to find out from my cellular provider whether roaming agreements are in place for my destinations and whether I need to hire a handset which supports the appropriate frequencies when I get there.
Be gone nightmare, you are no longer required here.
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