Monday, December 28, 2020

 Well it’s been awhile since I was last here. Things got happy and busy. Time ran like a race horse. 

My blog has meant much to me. As Ananda Girl and the Silly Rabbit, I made my way thru a husband in prison, his release, the divorce, the kissing of frogs in my frog pond, finding my Prince, our wedding, hist stroke, physical rehab, then his stay in alcohol rehab and his happy return. 

Life was good. My blog petered out. I retired and life became a slow and easy normal. Then as we were leaving for the coast, he had sever grand mal seizures. Scary times indeed. A week in the hospital a d he was back to himself, armed with new medications. Life returned to happiness, rolling on. 

Then, on December 5, 2020, my son called to ask if I could drive him to the store. I grabbed my purse and opened the door to the garage. I wondered briefly what smelled hot. 

I near lost my mind when I saw that Randy was sitting in his recliner on fire. The table in font of him was on fire, completely engulfed. I grabbed him from behind and tugged and twisted him to the door and halfway outside. The left side of his face on down to his right leg were flaming. I beat the fire out with my naked hands but his right foot refused to subside. I tore the foam cover off of our outside faucet filled it twice with water and the fire stopped. 

Understand some things... I was yelling help, with no response. A thought popped into my head about rape. The brain is an amazing thing. It gave me this information... in case of rape, no one responds to cries of help, you should tell “fire”.  And I began to scream it until my neighbors responded. One hooked up the hose in an attempt to put the fire out. Another called 911. Two more helped me get Randy into a patio chair away from the fire. God bless them! 

We wrapped him in a blanket. He was in shocking could finally start to see details. 


He was grievously burnt. My own brain had given me protection via that weird slow motion. It seemed like forever before the fire truck and EMTs showed up. When they took him to the ambulance time shifted into fast mode. I grabbed a fireman to tell him that there was a full propane tank on the deck close to the kitchen. He ignored that. So I repeated that to another fireman.  They’re busy, my brain told me, protecting him and the house. Ugh. Brain told me to move my car across the street. I did. 

Right. When I was busy pulling Randy out, Roxy jumped over us both. She left for parts unknown, or so I thought. In reality, she left to find Boo, who lives down the street. She brought him to me. Great relief! Boo is my oldest son. He put Roxy in my car and covered her shivers with a blanket. He gave her water and a neighbor dogs kibbles.  She has food allergies. I worried briefly. Oo said that Bear, my daughter was on her way and paid for a motel room and would stay with me. 

The fire chief wanted to talk to me. Huh? Questions I had no answers to give. I didn’t know how it began. My brain protected me from small things, like the cause. Instead it gave me super focus on what was truly important. That Randy looked like he was screaming, but no sound came from his mouth. That his eyes bulged with fear and pain and I had to get him out. That parts of him were on fire and there was no time. No help yet. My hands did not feel the fire, as I slapped it down.  I could only respond to his need and suffering. I did not care about the house. Only Randy. He took my phone number. An EMT told me that because if COVID, that I could not follow him to the hospital. 

I stood stunned by that. Neighbors and my son surrounded me. I don’t even recall the nice things they said. I was too deep inside my own head. I was living in “what if... land. What if Boo hadn’t called for a ride? Randy could have been dead before I knew there was a fire. What if I had left ten minutes prior? Agonizing thoughts.why was I unable to cry? Shouldn’t I be crying? 

I was busy beating myself up . What sort of wife couldn’t cry? Why hadn’t I smelled fire sooner? Each thought a dagger in my heart. A lightening bolt to my brain. I was hungry and felt guilt. Never mind that I’d always eaten my feelings. I was a callous jerk! 

Yet I was subconsciously hearing the neighbors in the background. I was a hero running into the fire like that. Pshaw! Heroes understand what choices they make. I was a wife,  a woman in love who saw the unthinkable and I truly did not think. My brain took right over, making me into it’s insane puppet. For what I did with my hands, I hand only two burns. One in the shape of a heart. Love was my only motivation. Love moved me. And selfishness because I need him. 

They said I saved his life. But I was saving mine too. Other comments I pushed down... the ugly ones from somewhere behind me. Like the ones I punished myself asking. I’m sure they thought I couldn’t hear. But the subconscious brain is like a recorder.  I suppressed them for later examination. I have since forgiven all. Tragic circumstances challenge the best of us. 

An very kind man, the fire station Chaplin came to pray with me. He gave me a peace of the sort that can come only from God. I am so grateful for his comfort. And for Gods. 

My bear showed up then. Glad I was. I needed to leave. I needed to stop looking at my house. Our house. I needed to leave flashing lights, smoke and men taking axes to my once scantuary with my absent husband. It was time for the false mundane and normal. 

Motel 6 provided a small feeling of security. I left with almost nothing. My purse that endured my activities strapped across my chest and my ultimate comfort, my Roxie dog. We needed each other. I slept that night with her next to me. My hand trailing off the bed to touch her back. And Bear close in the next bed. 

Enough for now. I’ll return tomorrow...if anyone is reading or not. This is therapy for me. A cautionary tale for you. I hope it gives some understanding of the aftermath of a fire for those who experience it. I will tell you this, the Red Cross is full of saints, who give their all. The firemen are angels of mercy and I can never, ever thank them enough. Good neighbors are worth their weight in gold. If you are not God followers, I understand and ask only that you look at your life in COVID, be thankful and know that it can be far worse than this discomfort. For those of faith, I am telling you sure... God is a great comfort and I feel him deep in my soul. I thank God. May he bless you all. 

Much love,

Silly Rabbit =:]