Bells and Whistles

Alarms.  Generally a good thing.  Sometimes not.  We have a hardwired alarm system in our house.  Makes all the calls automatically.  Sounds pretty good.  It’s HIGHLY sensitive.  Sensitivity compounded by 3 detectors in close proximity to the stove.  See where I’m going?  I had a cast iron pan that had some grease left in it.  I put in on low to loosen up the grease so I could wipe it out.  Decided to quick run to the bathroom.  Yeah, big mistake.  By the time I got back, the grease smoked, the alarms went WILD and the police and fire department had been called. 

This isn’t the first time this has happened.  Of course we call and tell them it isn’t an emergency, but they have to follow protocol.  Protocol?  Police officers, fire trucks, bells, whistles, lights, fire police men in uniform.  All up and down the street.  And you know what happens when you hear the fire truck going down your street—you step outside and look.  And there I am looking MORTIFIED. 

The funny part of all of this is that I know the police officers and the firemen.  And they laugh when they pull up and I am standing in the driveway telling them to turn off their lights and go home.  They uninitiated look all eager to put out the non-existent fire–and disappointed when they realize it’s just a false alarm.

My heart is still pounding.  I’d hate to have my blood pressure taken now–they’d whisk me off to the hospital for having a heart attack.  And Lord knows my mother and I don’t need to be roommates in the hospital.  Yeah, my mother is in the hospital for cellulits (inflammation/infection of the connective tissue) in her leg.  Her disposition is rather surly these days.  She’s on complete bedrest while she receives massive doses of IV antibiotics.  She’s had a slew of crazy roommates–a woman who broke both of her arms playing dogeball.  Yeah, dodgeball.  Fell backwards over a kid who just sat down where he was when he "got out".  A 96-year old woman with some dementia and an overactive bladder.  A woman with a gazillion drainage tubes hanging out of her stomach.  Fortunately she’s hanging by herself right now.  Probably a good thing for everyone.

Back to pretending to be Consuela, the maid…