Tuna confusion

I was in the Firehouse kitchen making something to eat when Rick walked in.

"Whatcha making?" he asks.

"A tuna sandwich.  You want one?"  I ask.

" I need to shower first," he says.  (He just got back from a call).  "I'll make one when I am done."

He goes to the showers and I finish making my sandwich.  Luca, my cat, smells the tuna and is meowing.  I look at the clock and it is one hour before his scheduled feeding time.  I tell him he has to wait but I give him a chunk of my sandwich anyway.

About 20 minutes later a call comes in and I have to leave the Station.  When I return, I go to the kitchen to feed Luca.  It is an hour past his feeding time and he is not happy at all.  I can't find his food.  It was a small container of Meow Mix I had left on the counter.  I look everywhere and can't find it.   I open another container of tuna and feed him that and he is happy and purring.  Still, I am wondering what happened to his food.  I KNOW I left it on the counter.

Rick is in the living room and I ask if he ate yet.  He said yes but he didn't really like the tuna sandwich he made.

"I don't like the albacore tuna you got.  I prefer the chunk light tuna," he says.

"I didn't buy albacore," I said.

"Well, whatever you got, I didn't really like it much," he says.

I go back to the kitchen and see Luca's Meow Mix container in the recycle bin.

I went back to the living room and ask Rick, "Are you wearing your contacts?"

He says no.  Geeeez.  He really should be!  And NO WONDER he didn't like the tuna sandwich he made.  He just ate Luca's food! 

I set the two containers together and realized the mistake he could have made.  But who am I to tell him???? 

Higher Education

When most of us were kids at school, our English teachers used to have us pick out a new word from the dictionary and write it's definition and then use it in 10 sentences. Here in the Firehouse we kind of do something similar with words that have to deal with infections or diseases. Our words don't come from the dictionary though. Two or three times a month the doctors in the ER suggest a word for us. We then spend time learning all we can about this infection or disease. It is always interesting to learn things that we normally wouldn't ever know about.

We had just dropped our patient off in the ER at San Francisco General. The doctors and nurses were extremely busy that day and we were trying to get out of there as soon as possible. Just as we were ready to leave, Sheena decides she wants a "new word" even though there was a lot of commotion going on. So instead of asking a few doctors for this "word" and getting in the way or taking up too much of their time, she stands there and does a "mass announcement" to the ER.

"Does anyone have an infection or disease they can share with me?"

Before I knew it, Captain Harold is smacking his forehead in disbelief and the entire ER went dead silent. Like a slow motion movie, I look around the ER as Sheena stands there waiting for an answer and everyone seems too stunned to answer. Except one old man on a gurney.

"I got an infection I can share with you."

How she gets her foot in her mouth without even knowing it, I will never understand. But she DOES have a great knack for it.

Half way there

Ouch! Ok, that hurt. Its hot here. I think I am on the ground; I'm not sure since my legs are in a strange position indicating that I am draped over something. I believe I was immobile for some time since my PASS alarm is shrilling in my ears and giving me a headache. I hate loud noises. Ok, I will admit that the whoop whoop of our Engine or Squad give me goosebumps even after all these years but that is different.

I can't move. Something heavy is on my legs. I try to kick and fight off the intruder giving me such discomfort but I can't move my legs. I'm irritated I am in this situation. Since I can't move, I will just have to wait for someone to get me out of here. And that alarm will scream until someone does. I swear, when they do, I will hammer it to pieces. Not being able to move has made me realize something. I HATE wrestling with the guys in the Station. One of our new "Physical activities" that we have recently taken an interest in (ok, the guys more than me since I'm not as strong as them!) .... and we have even hired an instructor.... is Wrestling. If I was better at wrestling, I am sure I could get myself out of this predicament. But I can't. Not yet at least.

My radio is blaring... I hear the Battalion Chief and my Captain talking to me, pleading for me to answer. I can't reach my radio. It must have fallen off my coat. I look around. I am (God knows WHERE!) but I suppose I am in the basement of the house we were fighting the fire in. My only thought is that I must have fallen through the floor. I am trying to think. Where was I before this place I am currently a prisoner in? I remember Nick. He was standing next to me. He was breaking the wall away. Rick was there with the hose. I remember yelling at one point telling them to get out of the house. I had a bad premonition. I felt Nick grab my coat. He was running with me in his grasp. Then I remember nothing until now. I don't know if Rick and Nick are ok and this concerns me more than my own plight.

I hear the commotion over the radio. They know where I am. What I don't like is the urgency in their commands and voices. I look around. I know it is hot. I am surrounded by a fire that is set on destroying everything in its path and it doesn't care about me. Why should it? I am only in the way of it's destructive path. To this fire I am just one more thing to gobble up. No big deal, right?

I hear the activity above me. They are making the hole in the floor that I fell through even wider. They must be careful otherwise they will join me down here and then I'll have all the unwanted company I can imagine. I see Nick through the smoke. I am relieved for that. But where is Rick?

It's getting hotter here. A look around again tells me I am 7 feet from a fire all around me. That isn't to mention any beams from overhead falling on me.

They say your life flashes before you when you think you are going to die. Mine doesn't. What happens is all the things that "caught my fancy" in my life throughout the years has found me laughing uncontrollably. Ok, anyone who knew I was crazy before can now say they were correct. Anyone who thought I was crazy has just had their suspicions confirmed.

I am thinking of the time my Father came home from work where he was a cake decorator and he was telling my Mom and I about the cats that waited by the back door to the Bakery every night when he arrived. He said they were feral cats and there were about 6 of them. He told us that they just loved the donuts he fed them. This had been going on for about three months. The following week I went with him to help him out at the Bakery. When we arrived, there were no cats to be found. He said my presence had probably scared them but they would come around. Half hour later, he looks out the door and tells me the cats are there and he is going to feed them. He takes out a large box of day-old donuts and proceeds to feed them. I go to watch him and am horrified. I am reminding him of how many times my Mother told him he needed glasses and that moment was one MAJOR reason why he needed them. "Dad? Those aren't feral cats........ they are feral SKUNKS! Can you PLEASE make an appointment with the eye doctor???"

My mind continues to wander......

I am remembering the time in High School when I had a VW Bug. I promised to take some friends to school one morning and I had "overbooked" my promises. Well, the VW only holds 5 but that day, there were 7 in my car. (I didn't have the heart to exclude anyone). It was raining that morning. We were packed in my VW, driving on the freeway. It was bad enough I had to use the stick shift between the legs of one of my male classmates but when my driver's side windshield wiper flew right off the car, I got to laughing so hard which made it hard trying to listen to the driving directions of the front seat passenger. I can't believe we made it to school without an accident!

My mind comes back to the present. Another alarm has sounded. Actually I heard the alarm before but ignored it. Couldn't do anything about it then and can't do anything about it now. The oxygen in my tank is almost depleted. I look up and can barely see the commotion going on through all the smoke. I still don't know where Rick is or if he is even ok. What I wouldn't do to be accidentally shot or stabbed by him just one more time in this life! What I wouldn't go to play one more joke, one more prank........... I don't want to die. I just want more chances to do all kinds of things in my life.

I can't breathe well now and I am tired..........

I get the feeling that my time is up because I can feel big hands lifting me up to Heaven. Didn't think I would go in that direction but I'm thankful all the same. I hear Rick's voice and figure something happened to him and he got to Heaven before me. Next thing I know I am being shouted at to breathe deeply and an oxygen mask is put over my face. I am thinking maybe I have to be resuscitated before going through Heaven's gates. Gotta walk through those gates on my own, right?

I slowly open my eyes and it hits me all at once. They have rescued me and I have oxygen again. I see Rick and in my heart I am glad he didn't get to Heaven before me. I'm also upset because now there is a 50% chance I won't get there at all. Darn. I was half way there!