An Incident
Aug. 19th, 2012 11:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sharplittleteethI called 000 for the first time in my life last night.
As I was getting ready for bed, I heard this muffled, high-pitched noise. At first I thought it was neighbours playing music. Then I thought it was water in the pipes. It only became clear when I went into our bedroom and the noise got a lot louder, that it was someone's smoke alarm.
I'll admit it. I had a daft moment of wondering should I do something? We get false alarms all the time in our block of flats.
The alarm kept going. It probably wasn't false.
I stepped out into the hallway, trying to work out where the noise was coming from. It was so loud it was actually hard to tell - it bounced off the walls so it sounded like it was coming from everywhere.
But I had a strong suspicion.
One of our neighbours is deaf. He also likes to have a few beers while he watches the footy. A couple of times in the past, after the footy and the beers, he's set some food cooking on the stove and fallen asleep.
I listened at his door. Under the screaming alarm, I could hear the hiss of cooking. And I could smell something burning, too. Sticking my head outside, I cold see a bright warning light flashing behind his blinds, too.
Suspicion confirmed.
I tried rattling his door, but if the alarm wasn't going to rouse him, there was no way that would. So I went back into our flat, found my phone, and dialled 000. At this stage, I didn't really think of it as an emergency. I actually downplayed it to the emergency responder. They took the details, and said the fire brigade would be there as soon as possible.
I went outside to wait for them. A few other neighbours had finally responded to the noise. I told them the fire brigade was on the way. I was still downplaying it, still thinking of it as a nuisance rather than an emergency.
Which is when the smoke started to pour out of the deaf neighbour's windows.
The last of the moisture in his dinner must have boiled away, and the food started to seriously burn. We tried pulling on his patio door, and looking for a window we could open. I wondering if we should smash the glass when I heard the sirens of fire engine coming, so I went out the front to meet them.
The fire truck was too big to fit around the narrow driveway of our flats. It parked in the street. I shook hands with the first officer out, and showed him around the back. He tried the door and radioed for some breakage gear from the truck. But by the time two more officers had brought it around, he'd managed to force the patio door open.
Smoke rolled out.
"Better use the breathing gear," he joked.
"Yeah," the others nodded. "Better."
They masked up with the laconic slowness of professionals -- do it slowly, do it right. Disappeared into the smoke. Carried my neighbour out a few seconds later. He was passed out. Drunk? Unconcious? Who knows. They laid him down in the parking spaces and a strapped as oxygen mask to his face. (I found the mask in the wheelie bins this morning when I took the rubbish out.)
A second fireman came out of the flat came out of the flat, carrying the smoking pot. They opened all the doors and windows to his flat and set up a portable fan to blow the smoke out.
My neighbour eventually came around. The old lady from upstairs was with him, patting his arm, calling his name. There was nothing for me to do, it was freezing, and I was only wearing pyjamas. I started to go back inside.
"Are you the one that called?" asked one of the fireman.
"Yeah."
The fireman nodded. His eyes had a distracted, distant look to them. "Well done. Thanks for that. He could have been in trouble there if you hadn't. So... yeah. Well done."
I thanked him. And I went back inside to bed.
***
There's this idea that if you save someone's life, they owe you something in return.
It's bullshit.
Many years ago, I intervened when a group of youths were beating up a pensioner on a tram. A decade later and a different tram, I told the driver to call an ambulance when a lady suddenly keeled over in the seat next to me. I never saw either of those people again.
You do what is required. You do what anyone would do. And afterwards, your reward is to feel shaken and slightly useless, and life just goes on as normal. The only moral here is check your smoke alarms.
And if you have a few beers watching the footy, maybe skip the kitchen adventures and order a pizza instead.
As I was getting ready for bed, I heard this muffled, high-pitched noise. At first I thought it was neighbours playing music. Then I thought it was water in the pipes. It only became clear when I went into our bedroom and the noise got a lot louder, that it was someone's smoke alarm.
I'll admit it. I had a daft moment of wondering should I do something? We get false alarms all the time in our block of flats.
The alarm kept going. It probably wasn't false.
I stepped out into the hallway, trying to work out where the noise was coming from. It was so loud it was actually hard to tell - it bounced off the walls so it sounded like it was coming from everywhere.
But I had a strong suspicion.
One of our neighbours is deaf. He also likes to have a few beers while he watches the footy. A couple of times in the past, after the footy and the beers, he's set some food cooking on the stove and fallen asleep.
I listened at his door. Under the screaming alarm, I could hear the hiss of cooking. And I could smell something burning, too. Sticking my head outside, I cold see a bright warning light flashing behind his blinds, too.
Suspicion confirmed.
I tried rattling his door, but if the alarm wasn't going to rouse him, there was no way that would. So I went back into our flat, found my phone, and dialled 000. At this stage, I didn't really think of it as an emergency. I actually downplayed it to the emergency responder. They took the details, and said the fire brigade would be there as soon as possible.
I went outside to wait for them. A few other neighbours had finally responded to the noise. I told them the fire brigade was on the way. I was still downplaying it, still thinking of it as a nuisance rather than an emergency.
Which is when the smoke started to pour out of the deaf neighbour's windows.
The last of the moisture in his dinner must have boiled away, and the food started to seriously burn. We tried pulling on his patio door, and looking for a window we could open. I wondering if we should smash the glass when I heard the sirens of fire engine coming, so I went out the front to meet them.
The fire truck was too big to fit around the narrow driveway of our flats. It parked in the street. I shook hands with the first officer out, and showed him around the back. He tried the door and radioed for some breakage gear from the truck. But by the time two more officers had brought it around, he'd managed to force the patio door open.
Smoke rolled out.
"Better use the breathing gear," he joked.
"Yeah," the others nodded. "Better."
They masked up with the laconic slowness of professionals -- do it slowly, do it right. Disappeared into the smoke. Carried my neighbour out a few seconds later. He was passed out. Drunk? Unconcious? Who knows. They laid him down in the parking spaces and a strapped as oxygen mask to his face. (I found the mask in the wheelie bins this morning when I took the rubbish out.)
A second fireman came out of the flat came out of the flat, carrying the smoking pot. They opened all the doors and windows to his flat and set up a portable fan to blow the smoke out.
My neighbour eventually came around. The old lady from upstairs was with him, patting his arm, calling his name. There was nothing for me to do, it was freezing, and I was only wearing pyjamas. I started to go back inside.
"Are you the one that called?" asked one of the fireman.
"Yeah."
The fireman nodded. His eyes had a distracted, distant look to them. "Well done. Thanks for that. He could have been in trouble there if you hadn't. So... yeah. Well done."
I thanked him. And I went back inside to bed.
***
There's this idea that if you save someone's life, they owe you something in return.
It's bullshit.
Many years ago, I intervened when a group of youths were beating up a pensioner on a tram. A decade later and a different tram, I told the driver to call an ambulance when a lady suddenly keeled over in the seat next to me. I never saw either of those people again.
You do what is required. You do what anyone would do. And afterwards, your reward is to feel shaken and slightly useless, and life just goes on as normal. The only moral here is check your smoke alarms.
And if you have a few beers watching the footy, maybe skip the kitchen adventures and order a pizza instead.
