In the New/Old Place - Oven-related Panic
Aug. 11th, 2023 03:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stormdogMiriam and I have been in the new/old place for a couple nights now. Overall, it's wonderful. We have a couch we don't hate. We have room that isn't taken up by a bunch of furniture we don't need and that isn't ours. We have nice big windows in the living room we can open up and enjoy the breeze through. It's been a long road getting here, and there's still a lot of stuff to move from the old place, but we're near the end.
Though IKEA had said they would reschedule for Wednesday, I called on Monday to ask what the status was. I was sitting at the apartment when I called. The person on the phone said it would be there in the next hour.
"You said the next day?" I asked.
"No, in the next hour."
"I better get over there to receive it then!"
And I did, so I would have been pretty annoyed if they were a no show as seems to have happened to so many people leaving reviews for them. But they did in fact show up, so that's finally all done.
We spent the first night sleeping here on Tuesday. That makes 337 days, or approximately 11 months, since the fire. I fervently hope this will facilitate a return to some kind of normalcy.
Honestly, though, things don't really feel normal with my dad being dead. Sometimes I don't think about it for a while, but sometimes it hits me pretty hard. The latest such hit was when something reminded me of Christmas and I thought about the first Christmas without him. For the last years, while I was overseas or in Canada, we at least hung out on Zoom on the holiday, and on New Years. I really wish I hadn't been unable to be there in person. I would finally have been this year.
Yesterday I tried to use the oven for the first time. I briefly started it up without realizing the instructions were still in it, and that scared me a lot. But I took them out and tried to get all the remains of the protective plastic off the door because I realized some of it was still wrapped around inside the door frame. I had trouble with that, and Miriam and I looked up what you're supposed to do when starting a new oven. We learned that you're supposed to let it heat up to 500 degrees and sit for a while so it can burn residue and oil used in the manufacturing process. I couldn't get myself to set it that high, but I managed 450.
We had bought a toaster oven recently at a garage sale, so Miriam suggested I make dinner in that instead. I started the toaster oven up, but started having a lot of fear about this unfamiliar device. It being on top of the counter was scaring me in particular, because the fire inspector had said that our faulty oven had gotten so hot it ignited the cabinetry through radiant heat. The irrational fear that this would happen again because of the toaster oven was almost making me panic, so I turned that back off and Miriam comforted me a bit while we waited the half hour for the oven to do its burn in.
On the couch, I started feeling even more fear. This situation was *so* like the one that started the fire. Turning the oven up to a high temperature and leaving it alone. On top of that, a little smoke (which is to be expected) was escaping from the oven vent. I kept intently watching the oven, waiting for something horrible to happen and unable to look away for fear that it would.
I can't remember if it was after the process was done or even before it when I collapsed against Miriam and started sobbing uncontrollably for a while. It was pretty bad as panic attacks go; hyperventilation, crying, stuffed up nose, terror. Miriam let me lean against her and take comfort from her touch and I managed to get under control eventually. Then we ordered delivery.
I'm going to try again tonight. I think it will be ok without having to do the burn-in.
Though IKEA had said they would reschedule for Wednesday, I called on Monday to ask what the status was. I was sitting at the apartment when I called. The person on the phone said it would be there in the next hour.
"You said the next day?" I asked.
"No, in the next hour."
"I better get over there to receive it then!"
And I did, so I would have been pretty annoyed if they were a no show as seems to have happened to so many people leaving reviews for them. But they did in fact show up, so that's finally all done.
We spent the first night sleeping here on Tuesday. That makes 337 days, or approximately 11 months, since the fire. I fervently hope this will facilitate a return to some kind of normalcy.
Honestly, though, things don't really feel normal with my dad being dead. Sometimes I don't think about it for a while, but sometimes it hits me pretty hard. The latest such hit was when something reminded me of Christmas and I thought about the first Christmas without him. For the last years, while I was overseas or in Canada, we at least hung out on Zoom on the holiday, and on New Years. I really wish I hadn't been unable to be there in person. I would finally have been this year.
Yesterday I tried to use the oven for the first time. I briefly started it up without realizing the instructions were still in it, and that scared me a lot. But I took them out and tried to get all the remains of the protective plastic off the door because I realized some of it was still wrapped around inside the door frame. I had trouble with that, and Miriam and I looked up what you're supposed to do when starting a new oven. We learned that you're supposed to let it heat up to 500 degrees and sit for a while so it can burn residue and oil used in the manufacturing process. I couldn't get myself to set it that high, but I managed 450.
We had bought a toaster oven recently at a garage sale, so Miriam suggested I make dinner in that instead. I started the toaster oven up, but started having a lot of fear about this unfamiliar device. It being on top of the counter was scaring me in particular, because the fire inspector had said that our faulty oven had gotten so hot it ignited the cabinetry through radiant heat. The irrational fear that this would happen again because of the toaster oven was almost making me panic, so I turned that back off and Miriam comforted me a bit while we waited the half hour for the oven to do its burn in.
On the couch, I started feeling even more fear. This situation was *so* like the one that started the fire. Turning the oven up to a high temperature and leaving it alone. On top of that, a little smoke (which is to be expected) was escaping from the oven vent. I kept intently watching the oven, waiting for something horrible to happen and unable to look away for fear that it would.
I can't remember if it was after the process was done or even before it when I collapsed against Miriam and started sobbing uncontrollably for a while. It was pretty bad as panic attacks go; hyperventilation, crying, stuffed up nose, terror. Miriam let me lean against her and take comfort from her touch and I managed to get under control eventually. Then we ordered delivery.
I'm going to try again tonight. I think it will be ok without having to do the burn-in.
