Stop, Drop, and Roll

  So, how did Molly end up at my new job? In a way it was good – well – kind of. A relief is more like it! That new job – an office job no less – sure can be a challenge! I was thinking that those old dirty days were behind me. Boy, was I wrong!
It started out okay enough. Had to exchange an oxygen concentrator. And after the change-out up over the barn I should have been in ‘heads up’ mode. But I wasn’t. At least the barn lady was changing companies and I didn’t have to tote off her old equipment. Not that setting her up was all that fun though! Good thing it wasn’t a rainy day!
I get to the property where the barn lady hangs out and she met me. “My place is back here,” she tells me as I lift up the twenty-five to thirty pound concentrator out of the van, set it down briefly, and then heft the thing from the pavement across the dirt patch onto a slab of cement. I had to be sure not to get the thing’s wheels all gummed up in the dirt.
The two ‘junk yard’ dogs were barking all crazy at me and I’m sure they would have eaten me if they had gotten loose! I tried to ignore them as I stared at the stairs – a full flight up no less! Right up and over the barn! And she tells me, “Just take them a few at a time.” A few at a time! Was she out of her mind? There’s no way that I could actually carry that big and bulky box up the stairs! And what stairs they were! Wooden steps with a sturdy, but thin, rail. I was surprised that they were firm and secure as I tackled the first step with a thump. I stepped up behind the box and that’s how I did it. Thump, bump, step; thump, bump, step until I got to the landing. It was small, but also secure and I was glad. I left the oxygen machine on the small porch and headed back down the stairs for the bottles and cart and paperwork – always the paperwork! I remember how long it used to take me to get through all of the red tape! It still takes a lot of time, just not quite so much…
The closest dog sniffs the big metal bottle as I pass him by on my way back up the stairs. He’s not happy, but at that point neither was I! I’m not much for all of that physical exertion! After-all, hadn’t I finally gotten to that coveted place of being ‘office material’? And with a title no less! Patient Care Coordinator! Ain’t that a hoot? Told my supervisor that it’d look good on a Resume. She just looked at me funny. Go figure! Started out as Customer Service Representative, but that job went away. In this economy I’m fortunate to have been offered a different position. I hate it when I’m not feeling appreciative, but I hate it when I’m feeling like a pack mule too!
But the worst of it? It was having to pass through this full door-sized screen – to keep the horse flies out, I guess. That thing was just hanging there all tattered and scraggly and when I went through it with my hands pre-occupied with carrying this concentrator (that I was more than done with) over the threshold, the creepy thing brushed against my head and I could feel it disheveling my hair! I hate to have my hair messed up! The worst I can ever remember was at Disneyland. I was watching – just watching – mind you – the kids on a ride when this huge spray – no not spray – this fire-hose like stream of water came out from no where and not only trashed my hair, but bothered my ear pretty good too… Talk about Grumpy! But that was after my sister had made me aware of my age! But that’s a totally different story, and even I can’t tolerate another rabbit trail with the one that I’m on!
Anyway, a person would think that I’d learn that when picking up an old concentrator I can be sure that they missed the part of the instruct that told them to clean the filters on the sides of the equipment at least once every couple of weeks! And after bumping one over a crack in the sidewalk only to find myself being ‘attacked’ by human dust gone wild I’d know how ‘volatile’ those nasty things can be!
I showed up for the exchange but was stopped cold at the front door as I was assaulted by the stench of cigarette smoke. And yes, I am a recovering cigarette addict! I’m in a constant state of recovery with no relapse in sight as just the smell of smoke closes my vocals… So I tell the guy, “I hope you’re not smoking in the same room as the oxygen!” And again before I left, “Don’t be smoking with that oxygen around – you’ll burn your face up.”
“Yeah,” he says, “I already done that once – I have sleep apnea.” Go figure!
And that concentrator! Dust waste galore!
The next day in the work room there’s this funky stink. A concentrator is running. It’s getting prepped for cleaning/analyzing/and redistribution.
There was no doubt in my mind that this here was going to be a dirty deed – that’s when I reckon that Molly took over. She is learning – that girl – about self-preservation! She gets a box of them there face-safety-masks and grabs one out. Puts it on her face – stretches the bands around her head and wonders if she looks like a space-cadet, or what. She bends down and grabs that filthy – never been changed – filter and her eyes go all fuzzy. You know, like when your face mask gets steamed up when you’re swimming – and she wonders what life will be like if that goes on – eyeballs steaming up and all!
Well, me, I discovered that she had my glasses on! Whew! Good thing!
And the Stop, Drop, and Roll? That’s what I, we, me, has to do when I’m, we’re, Molly-me, are on call. Stop what we’re doing. Drop everything. Roll on down the road! What a job!
And just to be sure that I’m for real get this one… Here I am at the hospital tonight and I’m delivering a cane. A simple cane. How hard can that be? Well, this cane is wrapped in this way over-sized plastic bag and I can’t for the life of me get the cane out! The client is off getting an x-ray and the husband is sitting there as I struggle with the bag and the captured cane. I must have looked like an idiot and I did what any normal, red-blooded American would do! I blamed it on my alter-ego! Out of my mouth – honest – I says, “I guess Molly showed up for this one.”
The guy just looks at me. I tried to clean it up by saying innocently enough, “I’m Audrey. Molly is my alter-ego.”
And the guy says as equally innocent and unobtrusive, “Yeah, just don’t let the doctor hear you say that.”
I just laughed and didn’t bother trying to explain.