The recurring nightmare theme I’ve had is that I do something to sabotage my recovery: get my cast wet, fall, or forget that I have a broken ankle and walk on the cast.

Today was especially freaky. I woke up to the smell of smoke: specifically, the unmistakable smell of burning wood. I got up, grabbed my phone and keys, and started checking out the usual suspects: the outlets, the kitchen, etc. I wasn’t freaking out but was more than highly concerned. If I had any time to grab something, what would I grab? How would I get myself and the cat out of the house? What would I do if the stairway was impassable? Throw myself out the window?

We’d had electrical problems before, and I paid special attention to the outlets. I went outside and milled around. My sense of smell is so bad that I couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from.  

Since Molly was on her way over, I asked her if she’d mind looking around the neighborhood to see if there was an impending fire. Her sense of smell is unreliable too, but she’d heard on the radio about how the shifting winds brought smoke from the fires on the Georgia/Florida border to Atlanta. Apparently, the whole city is under a blanket of smoke.

http://www.cnn.com/2007/WEATHER/05/22/wildfires.ap/index.html?section=cnn_latest