Embarrassing Moments - The Night of the Invisible Fire

by Kari Diane Pike

Embarrassing moments. Everyone's had a least one. Or a dozen. Writers live for them - particularly if they happen to someone else. While the distress during the moment may turn our faces red, bring tears to our eyes, or even send us scampering to hide under a blanket fort with our thumbs in our mouths, embarrassing situations often become the stuff that makes the greatest stories.

Some years ago I shared my "Great Fish Story". Yeah. That was awkward. Don't ever listen to random college students on spring break. You might end up throwing some poor fisherman's freshly caught dinner back into the ocean because of the mistaken impression you could save the marine ecology one fish at a time.

Coming in a close second is "The Night of the Invisible Fire". Our young family of seven had relocated from California to Flagstaff, Arizona about ten months earlier and had just moved into temporary housing for the third time since the big move. A poor local economy forced my husband to accept a job in another town across the state. He worked during the week and came home only on the weekends.

One Wednesday night, I dreamt that the house was on fire. I remember trying to open my eyes, but the smoke made them sting and I kept choking on the fumes. Our dog kept barking and barking and I couldn't find her anywhere. I started coughing and woke with a start when I realized something was actually wrong. The dog really was barking and my eyes and nose and throat burned. The smell...I couldn't figure it out. The nauseating odor reminded me of a time the neighbors had an electrical fire in their car.

I leaped off the bed, forgetting to grab my glasses and felt my way down the hall to wake up the kids and get them out of the house. But who to wake up first? How could I get them all out in time? Panic clouded my thinking. I hesitated at door to the girls' room. I needed to calm down so I didn't upset the kids. The idea of a fire would scare them enough. I tried to take a deep breath and slow down my racing heart. That's when I realized the smell wasn't as bad in the hallway. My tears had washed away the sting. I peered back down the hall - as well as my nearsightedness would allow anyway. I couldn't see any smoke.

The closer I got to my bedroom, the worse the fumes became. I grabbed my glasses from the bedside, turned around and walked through the kitchen and living room. No smoke. Just that nasty, burning smell. I opened the front door to see if something was burning outside. Nothing. Nada. Back in the house. I took a deep breath and coughed out the invisible, acrid stench that filled my throat. Something was definitely wrong. What should I do? I wanted to call the fire department, but what was I going to tell them? I decided to call my friend Stephanie who lived down the road. I knew she rarely went to bed before midnight and the clock on the wall read 11:55.

Stephanie answered on the second ring. "Hello?"

Hearing a my friend's voice slowed my heart from its marathon pace down to a 10K - pounding, but not heart attack mode.  "Hi Steph. It's Kari. I'm sorry to call you so late."

"It's okay. What's wrong?"

"I had a dream that the house was on fire and woke up to a terrible burning smell and I can't find smoke anywhere, but the smell burns my eyes and throat and I almost called the fire department, but I don't see fire anywhere." I paused to catch my breath. "I don't want to waste their time. Can I bring the kids over to your house until I'm sure everything is okay?"

"Of course. You are always welcome. Do you want us to come help? Did you try calling the non-emergency number and see if they can send someone over to check things out?"

"Oh, good idea. I'll call right now. I'll call you back in a minute."

I called the non-emergency line and explained the situation. "Would it be possible to just send an officer over to quietly check things out?"

"I'll dispatch someone right now, Mrs. Pike."

A minute later, sirens echoed up the street. Oh dear. Now the whole neighborhood is going to get woke up. Not one, not two, but three fire trucks appeared around the corner, accompanied by two police cars. A tall fireman climbed out of the first truck that pulled up and approached me. I repeated my story and he ordered the others to search the house and yard and alley behind us.

I hurried back into the house to get the kids. I couldn't believe they were still sound asleep. The floor creaked behind me. I turned and the fire chief motioned for me to follow him outside.

I pointed to the girls' room and whispered. "I was just getting my children up to take them to a neighbor's house."

"I don't think you need to wake up your kids, Mrs. Pike. We don't see a fire anywhere. Let me show you something."

I followed the chief out the front door and around to the back of the house. He stopped and pushed aside a loose board, revealing access to the crawl space under the house and right below my bedroom window.

"We didn't find a fire, but we did find a skunk. I think your dog got in there and scared it good. I hope you have lots of tomato juice. They say it takes the smell off pets and people." The corner of his mouth twitched and I knew he was struggling to keep a straight face.

"Oh. Well, then. That's good! I'm so sorry I bothered you. Just write in your report 'Hysterical woman whose husband was out-of-town'. I'm sure y'all will get a chuckle out of this for a long time." I ducked my head and reached my hand out to shake his hand and thank him. One large, warm hand wrapped around my cold fingers. He placed his other hand over the top and held it for a moment. I peeked up, too mortified to look straight at him. The fire chief smiled.

"It's okay, Mrs. Pike. Better safe than sorry. We get calls like this all the time." Chief motioned for the rest of the rescue workers to load up. The police officers turned off the lights flashing on their vehicles, turned on their engines, and drove away.

Stephanie pulled up right as they left. She jumped out of her car and ran up to the door. "Are you okay? We heard the sirens and knew it had to be for you. What happened? Are the kids okay?" She stopped to take a deep breath. "Whoa. Ew. Did the dog get a skunk?"

Ummm. yeah. About that.

So...readers, how do you handle embarrassing moments? Have you ever noticed that some people are more prone to them? What about the people who have no idea they should be embarrassed? Or should they? What do you do to make it easier to laugh at yourself? When's the last time you let yourself enjoy an honest-to-goodness belly laugh? Do it. It's good for the soul.

Life is magnificent.

Hugs~

Some Talents Are Overrated

by Kari Diane Pike

A couple of weeks ago I discovered a hidden talent. My devoted eternal companion regrets not recording the event. He claims I executed a faint that would make my corset-wearing Victorian grandmothers proud. What can I say? After nearly forty years, my man can still make me swoon.

It all started when I walked into his office to discuss our plans for the evening. I stepped through the door, took one look at the love of my life and the whole world started to spin. My heart skipped a beat or three, my peripheral vision disappeared, and everything started to turn gray.

"Doug, I think I'm going to pass out."

He swiveled his chair around to look at me. "What?"

"I...I..." All I remember after that is wanting to sit down before I fell to the floor. What seemed to me to be just a moment later, I woke up with Doug kneeling beside me and lifting my head. "I'm awake. I'm awake. I'm okay."

But I wasn't okay. When I sat up, my heart raced so fast I couldn't count the beats. I tried to get to my feet, but even with Doug's help, I couldn't move. The heat in my face and the pressure in my head made me think of one of those old Disney cartoons where steam comes out of the character's ears.

Doug tried to help me up again. I told him to leave me alone and run across the street to get help from our neighbor the nurse.

He let go of my arm and frowned at me. "I can't leave you here by yourself. What if you pass out again? I'm not going anywhere."

After another minute I caught my breath enough to stand up. "Honey, help me get to the bedroom so I can take my blood pressure. The reading will give us my heart rate." Except it didn't. My heart beat so fast the monitor couldn't read it. I closed my eyes and tried to visualize my heart slowing down, but it continued to race like a locomotive that lost its brakes on a downhill slope. Another minute passed. I tried to lie down, but I couldn't breathe in a prone position. I perched on the edge of the bed. Doug stood next to me and wrapped his arms around me.

I leaned my head against his side and tried to swallow the increasing tide of panic. "Doug. Call 911."

"Let's just get you in the car and take you to the E.R."

"No. If I pass out in the car, you won't be able to help me. If we call the paramedics and they have to transport me, they have the right equipment and know what to do."

Doug grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911.

"911. What is your emergency?"

Doug described our situation to the dispatcher. About the time he gave her our address, my heart rate returned to normal. Just like that - as if nothing had happened. The fire died down, the tracks leveled out, and my sweat covered body shivered in the chill that took place of the heat.

"Doug. Doug. Tell them never mind. I'm okay now. My heart is okay now."

Guess what. Once you call 911, they have to come check things out. There's no such thing as "just kidding" in that kind of situation. While Doug remained on the phone with dispatch, I reclined back onto the bed. I felt so silly when just a couple of minutes later six, not two or three, but SIX firemen came into the room. They looked like they had just stepped off the set of one of those Hallmark romance movies - you know- tall, buff, and ruggedly handsome. If I had been single and thirty years younger I might have been tempted to swoon again.

Anyway...when I started to sit up, those young men ordered me to stay down and asked Doug and I questions while they took my vitals: blood pressure, oxygen levels, heart rate, blood sugar, and temperature.

Everything was back to normal except my blood pressure. Much too high and it had nothing to do with the company in the room.

"Mrs. Pike, we can call an ambulance to transport you to the hospital, or..."

"Actually, I'm okay now." I started to sit up, but they ordered me to stay put again.

"You don't understand. You have two choices. We can call transport, or we can walk you to your car and let your husband take you to the E.R., but you are going to the hospital."

"Oh."

Doug brought me my slippers and with a fireman on each arm and others in front and behind me, I walked out the door to the car. Once they saw me buckled in, they turned things over to Doug and off we headed. The rest of the story is pretty unexciting. When the E.R. doctor asked what happened, Doug told her that I performed the most graceful faint he had every witnessed and wished that he had recorded it. My blood pressure ebbed back toward normal and three hours and several blood tests later, we returned home.

In a couple of weeks I have an appointment with the cardiologist. He wants to see if he can recreate whatever caused me to faint by putting me on a tilt table. I suggested that the Tilt-A-Wheel at the fair would be way more fun and a lot less expensive, but he didn't go for it.

Why tell this story? This experience made me ponder a bit more on my mortality and the ups and downs that make my stomach flip and my heart race. President Gordon B. Hinckley once described life with this quote:

Life is like an old-time rail journey—delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed.
“The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride (“Big Rock Candy Mountains,” Deseret News, 12 June 1973, A4).

What I really want to remember in thanking the Lord for the ride is that each and every day is a gift. Every morning when I wake up, there are new and exciting things ahead. Because of the Savior's Atonement, no matter what happens, everything is going to be okay. No matter how challenging the gift might prove to be, it will all work out.

To quote Elder Jeffrey R. Holland:

... Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead—a lot of it—...You keep your chin up. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come (General Conference, October, 1999).

During my life's journey, I've learned that the steepest mountains and the harshest of deserts offer the most spectacular vistas - something miraculous and amazing. And while I think the Victorian Era's fascination with fainting was highly overrated, I am grateful for the reminder that Life is Magnificent.

hugs~