What a week

Yes, I really do mean that.

On Wednesday 3rd June, I was woken by the fire alarm, beep, beep it went... Bugger went I! I dragged my ass from my bed and headed downstairs. In retrospect the air did smell funny, but what the fluck.

I opened the door to my living room and was engulfed by black smoke and heat. My skin felt alive! I ran back up stairs and then remembered Jezz, dads dog was in house, I called out for her, she barked. I ran back downstairs. She was hiding in the downstairs toilet. I grabbed her and ran back up the stairs; she bit me and headed back down the stairs.

Beep, beep, beep, beep went the alarm.

Coughing I headed into the bath room grabbed a towel, wet it and headed back down the stairs.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep went the alarm.

I couldn’t find her and the smoke was thick. I hit the downstairs alarm with a shoe; I didn’t want to wake the neighbours. The battery flew over my head and into darkness and smoke. I headed back upstairs and tried to phone the fire service.

Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep went the alarm.

No connection. The hand base was downstairs!

I banged on the walls; I opened the windows and screamed “FIRE”.

Coughing I ran into the hall and climbed up onto the banister and attacked the other fire alarm, the beep, beeping was doing my bloody head in; I knew there was a bloody fire. I headed into Dylan’s bedroom. Thank god he was off with mum and dad in Chester. I flung open the window and screamed.

Tracy, my next door neighbour came into the garden, she called up to me and I screamed “fire, call the police”.

“I’m calling the fire brigade”

For what seemed like hours we discussed the viability of me jumping. I didn’t want too. I would break my legs, I was wearing only knickers and a vest. I was scared. The smoke filled the room, and eventually I decided I was going to have to jump. My lungs were full and I was coughing black.

The fire engine came round the corner, lights flashing, before I knew it I was being guided down a ladder, my ass shown to the milkman and his dog. I was put in an ambulance and whisked away.

I spent the day in hospital, Keefe running round being a star (yes I did type that). I had serious carbon monoxide within my system and had to be on oxygen all day. The smell was horrible and as I eventually showered I sighed with relief.

My house downstairs is gutted, because of an asbestos risk I’ve lost all my pictures, Dylan’s toys and DVDs, the TV, the kitchen, oh god, everything.

But even with all that stuff gone I count myself blessed. This week Jane, the girl that owns the sing and sign franchise, has handed over the keys to one of her flats, I’ve had furniture brought to the house by friends, mum and dad spent an afternoon driving round picking up furniture from freecycle friends and I’m in new “special house”.

We weren’t going to tell Dylan about the fire. I thought it best to just tell him that we had got the decorators in. But he picked up on messages and mummy crying. So we told him there had been a fire, that Fireman Sam had had to help mummy down the ladder in her knickers ( he thought that was great). We told him that Bob the builder was going to fix the house and bring him lots of new toys. We took him to see the house. He thought it was dirty and smelly and much preferred his new special house!

It’s amazing how resilient he is! I’ve heard him asking friends if “their house it burn too”, but that is about it.

I’m fine, Dylan is fine, the house, well that’s not fine, but it will be and all the stuff, well its just stuff, stuff I’m sad to have lost but I would happily give up all that stuff to have me and Dylan existing on the basis of fine.

I keep thinking “better to be smoked than fried” so do me a favour tonight, before you go to bed check your fire alarms. They really do save lives.