Fire! Fire! Pants on Fire! Pour on Water! Pour on Water!

Where do YOU think is one of the worst places to be when there is a fire alarm and subsequently, a fire? Oh, pick me, pick me! I know the answer to that one. It’s not the library or even a crowded subway platform. It’s not the 35th floor of a non-descript office building nor is it the top of the CN Tower.

Rather, it’s on the 3rd floor of a retirement residence in the ’secure’ unit. The secure unit is a locked wing that takes care of mostly elderly people who tend to wander, experience dementia symptoms and alzheimer patients. It takes a lot of patience to work here and I have nothing but praise for those that do. I’m only there for about 45 minutes once a week while others work there day after day, shift after shift doing all sorts of things to care for this special and challenged population with little acknowledgement or thanks in relation to all they do.

That being said, today offered even more challenge than usual. The fire alarm started going off right in the middle of a Barry Manilow song. We had just finished all of our warm-up stretches and our yoga poses and were getting to the beach ball when everything suddenly came to a halt. And just so you are clear, there was no regular panic here. Heck, most didn’t even realize what was going on BUT the residents that did made up for those that didn’t and they were loud and agitated. Mr. Cheese grabbed his jacket and marched down the hall to the family room area where we had gathered (the psw’s and I) and stated that he had it from a reliable source that we were under fire and the he needed to get out. We assured him all was okay and he kept saying he wanted to go somewhere so we directed him to the family room with the others but he would have no part of that. I have to leave he kept saying. But with nowhere to go and a locked door at the end of the hallway, his options were limited. He headed back to his room where he contemplated the window (3rd floor) and then realized he should just stay put.

Meanwhile, down the hall, Mr Cranky D was shrieking and yelling. Mr. Cranky D always shrieks and yells and overall, is very rude and obstinate to everyone unless he is snoozing. Thank God he snoozes a lot. So, he’s yelling and getting real shrill and then we realize he’s waving his razor around. At this point one of the psw’s scurries down to calm him and remove the sharp object.

Back in the family room, a few of my students have left. One, Ms V, takes Miss M by the arm and leads her out. She thanks me for my time and says they may be back again but that they have to get home. Get home together? Are you related I ask? Yes, says Ms V, she’s my daughter. Whatever, Miss M is older than Ms V but at this point I am out of energy and the clock is ticking and I am just looking for my own way out. The alarm finally stops and I make my mad dash for the door, waving and smiling and promising to be back next week. They won’t remember any of this in 10 minutes. Sometimes forgetting is good, no?