{"id":6222,"date":"2011-10-27T11:24:12","date_gmt":"2011-10-27T16:24:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/danigirl.ca\/blog\/?p=6222"},"modified":"2011-10-27T11:37:22","modified_gmt":"2011-10-27T16:37:22","slug":"the-one-with-the-gas-leaks-plural-as-in-more-than-one","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/danigirl.ca\/blog\/2011\/10\/27\/the-one-with-the-gas-leaks-plural-as-in-more-than-one\/","title":{"rendered":"The one with the gas leaks. Plural. As in, more than one."},"content":{"rendered":"

I<\/span>‘m at work, and calling Beloved to arrange for a ride home because I’m pretty much stranded. I’ve just dropped the car off for servicing and to have the winter tires installed and am still feeling crusty about the fact that apparently my dealership will drop you off in a courtesy shuttle but not pick you up. But, they don’t bother to mention this fact until you’re actually in the shuttle. Or at least, that’s how it played out for me. So I’m calling Beloved to see if he can rearrange his afternoon and pick me up downtown, drop me off at the dealer at the south end of Bank, then hustle on over to Manotick to pick up the boys from school. Not happy.<\/p>\n

He mentions he’s feeling dizzy, and says Tristan complained of the same. “And you mentioned you’d been feeling dizzy last night,” he says. I kind of shrug, but my mind skims back another day and I think, “Hmmm, I turned on the furnace on Tuesday before bed. And yesterday I was feeling a bit dizzy. And today, they’re feeling dizzy.” I don’t much like all those coincidences, but I am still smarting from the embarrassment of having the fire department show up one fine morning almost a year ago to help us replace the batteries in our CO detector<\/a>.<\/p>\n

More to appease Beloved than out of any sense of urgency, I agree to call Enbridge. And I suggest that he turn off the furnace. It’s cool, but not freezing outside. Better safe than sorry, right? So I find the the Enbridge site and a toll free number. The first option in the voice mail tree asks me if this is an emergency or not. I’m about to confirm “not” when they mention something about carbon dioxide. I waffle for a second, then press the zero to be put into the emergency queue, cringing. The operator comes on and already I’m hedging, explaining that it’s not really an emergency but since I have you on the line, I have a question… and I try to schedule an appointment for maybe this afternoon, or maybe tomorrow?<\/p>\n

The operator will have none of that. She needs to dispatch someone immediately if they take my call. Ugh. Beloved is half way to Gatineau by now on his way to a meeting, and I’m friggin’ stranded downtown. I tell her I’ll call back. And I immediately dial my sweet, wonderful, reliable parents. Of course they’re willing to help, and within 30 minutes my dad is at the house, waiting on the porch. When I call Enbridge back, they dispatch someone right away and tell me all the occupants of the house should see a doctor right away. I cringe again. I am almost positive this will be another false alarm. I am both relieved and mortified that my father will bear the brunt of this encounter.<\/p>\n

Time passes. I wonder if Enbridge has a false alarm blacklist, and if they’ll stop taking my calls after this. I wonder if I’ll be charged for this second call within a year. I cringe some more. I call Beloved to let him in on my frenzy of organizing and dispatching, and he mentions he’s still feeling a little dizzy and I cringe some more. If he’s out in the fresh air and feeling off, clearly we’ve misread the situation.<\/p>\n

Time passes. My dad finally calls. There were two gas leaks.<\/p>\n

I close my eyes and lose track of what he is saying for a minute. Two? Gas? Leaks? At my house? Where my babies were sleeping? Where I had a fire in the fireplace the day before I turned on the furnace? What if I’d gotten around to having one yesterday? What if I’d used the oven or stove instead of calling for pizza yesterday? What if, what if, what if… and I realize I have to pay attention because what my dad is trying to tell me is Very Important Information, but all I can hear are the sounds of sirens that did not wail.<\/p>\n

I’ve learned enough so far this morning that my brain has stopped accepting new information. In no particular order, I’ve learned:<\/p>\n