Yesterday was hot, hot, hot, so we did what we do every hot day-grilled! We had shrimp and veggies on skewers and the looked quite yummy. In the middle of cooking, we ran out of propane. My husband went and got a new tank in record time (I was going to ask where he went, but never had the chance), returned and installed the either refilled, or newly traded-in tank (I never found out which either). When he went to light it and bent down to click on the ignitor, there was a huge whoosh of fire in his face and his face got burnt. He went right away to the ER and my oldest, God bless her, accompanied him. I insisted on calling him a cab because his biggest complaint was pain in his eyes, but he insisted on driving himself (the hospital is right down the street-my OB's office is located there and I have walked there and back). For some reason that struck me as a "man thing". I do not say that as an offense to men, but I can see my father insisting on doing the same thing. In his mind it meant less financial burden on the family, of paying for a cab. Not the most logical, but I think in his panic as well, that was what was important to him.
I continued dinner (as the grill was on and the other children had not eaten). The food was cooking, but then the fire rose. I turned the knobs off, nothing happened. I closed the valve (later I saw I did not close it all the way), and nothing happened. I grabbed the fire extinguisher and extinguished the whole thing-shrimps and all. Afterwards I checked the valve on the tank, and I think in my calm panic, I didn't close it all the way, so I closed it tight.
My husband and daughter returned home via cab. The hospital staff kind of looked at him like he was crazy when he told them he drove there. He suffered second degree burns on his nose, first degree on the rest of his face, and his eyes are bandaged. Tomorrow he has to return and see if his eyes will heal.
We ordered pizza for dinner. I feel terrible about wasting the other food, and then wasting more money ordering out, but pizza lightened up the heavy mood that was starting to ensue a bit. And God bless my daughter (again), she sat next to her father saying "You know what I want to do now? Play a nice family game of Pictionary. Or better yet, charades!"
Tomorrow I will check the valves and the lines with soapy water to make sure there are not any leaks. Part of me would rather not grill again. Almost. I don't know how to cook inside in the summer.
I am feeling kind of freaked and very, very guilty (which is why I am up blogging instead of sleeping). Years ago, when we started grilling with propane, I used to check the lines with soapy water everytime we changed the tank. I don't know why I totally forgot about that procedure. I was not being lazy and skipping the step, I just totally forgot you do that. I think it was somewhere between when the grilling job got passed on from me to the Job of The Man of The House, and when were living off-grid. We got so used to dealing with fire and propane for everyday living, I guess we got kind of complacent, which is stupid.The flip side of course is we always have new fire extinguishers on hand (as Fastolph has been known to find them and use them out of curiosity in the past).
Please say a prayer my husband makes a full recovery. If he cannot work, it will make it difficult finanacially, as usual. Not that I want to ship him off injured. It's just that the life events=financial problems ratio never ends sometimes. Whenever you do little things to get ahead, it is just covering up what went wrong and is not really getting ahead.
Oh, another thing. My poor parents. My mother has been begging my father for years for a propane grill. He finally relented the day before yesterday and he spent 3 hours in Sears perseverating over whether or not this decision would eventually lead to their death, but finally purchased one. He spent hours afterwards worrying about where to keep the propane and insisted that wherever they put the tank (in the garage or basement), my brothers (23 and 21) are not allowed to enter that room ever again. Then I called them with this story: "Polo is in the ER because the grill kind of blew up in his face. Please pray for him!"
That and my grandmother used to get hysterical when I said we used propane to heat our hot water and for the stove when we lived off-grid. She used to scream into the phone that her heart would stop from the worry because that is so dangerous.
