"Memoriable Day Weekend" by Troy H. Cheek on Jun 13, 2005

I work in the healthcare security technology field, where I amuse myself by pretending to be the Bastard Officer From Hell(tm) when my duties allow. Hospitals can't close for holidays, security is needed at hospitals 24/7, and technology doesn't respect a schedule when it decides it's time to break down. I've discovered that the MTBF (mean time between failures) of most security equipment is about the same as the length of time between my regularly-scheduled vacations.

That being said, I was shocked and amazed this year when I discovered that I would be able to take off the entire Memorial Day weekend including Monday. That was the good news. I was even going to be able to leave work Friday hours early. That was better news. I was going to get to leave work Friday hours early because I was going to be coming in and working in the middle of the night.

This would be the bad news.

I had stayed up late on Thursday night helping the nephews get a scratched-up DVD movie to play and then trying to get a wireless Playstation 2 controller to work. I finally got into bed about 11 PM and might have dropped off to sleep sometime around midnight. I was dreading the alarm clock going off in the morning.

I was sound asleep when the phone rang at about 1 AM.

Brrring! Brrring! went the phone.

Slam! went my fist on the alarm clock.

Brrring! Brrring! went the phone again.

Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

Eventually, I managed to answer the phone. "Wronkle vuffun fleezle drammix?"

"Hello, Troy," one of second shift officers said. "Can you come in to work early?"

My reply was unprintable.

"One of the third shift officers called in sick, the second third shift officer just didn't show up, and the third third shift officer was scheduled to be off tonight and isn't answering his phone."

Duty calls. Sigh. "When do I need to come in to relieve you?"

"Oh, I think I can work a double and stay on until morning. You don't need to relieve me."

Good man. On the other hand, if that was the case, why was he calling me? "Then why do I need to come in early?"

"The Emergency Center called and they've got a psychiatric patient who's about as big as you and me put together. Right now he's asleep, but as soon as he wakes up, the doctor is going to talk to him and decide if he needs to be committed. I'm going to need help if he decides to try to leave, and it will be too late to call you then."

Sigh again. "Okay, when do you need me there?"

"Is 2 AM okay?"

"That depends. What time is it now?"

"Just after 1 AM."

Half hour to shower and shave plus one hour of driving time. "Then I can't make 2 AM. It will be closer to 2:30, or even 3 AM if they're still doing the Interstate repaving at night."

"I'll look for you then."

Click.

I managed to make it by 2:15 AM, there being no repaving going on. Our sleeping giant was still slumbering, so we took turns shotgunning the coffee pot and patroling the hospital. I don't like coffee. I find that it is oily and bitter and makes my head spin. It doesn't even really keep me awake. It just makes me nervous and twitchy. I'm still sleepy, but I'm sleepy while waking in tight little circles and talking to myself.

I stopped hanging out in the Emergency Center when I noticed the doctor was showing more interest in me than in the sleeping patient.

Old Sleeping Ugly finally woke up in the not-so-wee hours of the morning and spoke with the doctor. The doctor decided his only problem was lack of sleep and let him go back to bed.

That was also Security's problem at the time, but I didn't have that option. I bought the second shift guy some breakfast and sent him home. I muddled along by myself until the rest of first shift came on duty. All one of him.

"You should have called me, man," my partner chided me. "I could have come in."

"First of all," I told him, "You ended up working a double yesterday and were in worse need of sleep than I was. Secondly, we did try calling you. You didn't answer."

He checked his cellular phone, played back a couple of messages, and said "Oh, right."

I spent half the day making sure all the automated systems were working before I left for the long weekend. I got home about 1 PM and was asleep shortly thereafter. I think I woke up some time around 7 PM just long enough to eat supper. I napped off and on through most of Saturday as well.

There once was a time when I could have stayed up two or three days straight without missing a beat. I'm long past my prime, though, and need my eight or so hours every night.

By Sunday I was back to my normal (ha!) self and enjoying my time off. I had just commented to myself that this was going to be a good weekend when my younger brother showed up.

My mother gave all three of her sons names which begin with the letter 'T' to make them easier to remember. Ever since I saw the Terminator Trilogy, I like to refer to my younger brother as "T2" and my youngest brother as "T3."

T2 said that T3 was on his way over. We were all going to get together and grill some food for Mom and Dad for Memorial Day. Technically, Memorial Day is observed on Monday, but they knew I usually had to work holidays so they decided to do it Sunday once they realized my truck was in the driveway.

"What do you want us to grill for you?" T2 asked.

"A couple of burgers will be fine for me," I answered.

"Blap!" T2 said, miming a slap across my face. "A special occasion like this and you're going to waste it with burgers?"

I reconsidered. "Okay, I'll take a couple of T-bones."

"Blap! You have any idea how expensive those are these days?"

T3 showed up and we eventually settled on the cheapest steaks we could find, some discount pork chops, and whatever ribs were on sale. We would make up for the low quality by the perfect flavor instilled with the grill and judicious use of a popular grilling sauce, several bottles of which I had recently won by knowing the difference between fission and fusion during a call-in radio trivia contest.

T2 went to buy meat while T3 and I set up the grill. We had plenty of charcoal and an entire bag of mesquite wood chips. T3 had a little trouble getting the grill started as he lacked his "Cone of Arson" as he called it. This was, he explained, a metal cone with a handle. You inverted the cone on the grill, put a couple of wadded pages of newspaper in the bottom, and filled it to the top with charcoal. You light the paper and by the time it's finished burning, the charcoal is ready to use. You just carefully pull the cone straight up, set it aside to cool, and spread the charcoal out to provide even heat.

T3 had lost his Cone of Arson the year before because the plastic handle had fallen off it and he hadn't noticed. He went to pick it up and threw it and half the charcoal within all over his back deck.

"I didn't know you had a back deck at your new house," I said.

"Well, I don't anymore," he admitted.

Luckily, I have the ability to catch pretty much anything on fire, and we had a usable bed of charcoal going by the time T2 returned with the meat. T3 got right into it, adding the mesquite chips and stirring them around until they were cracking and popping and releasing the occasional spark. All went well right up until T2 noticed that the hair on the back of T3's arm was smoking.

We three all have pretty impressive arm hair, with T3 being the undisputed champion in that regard. T3 routinely welds and cuts metal without noticing the odd molten bits imbedding themselves into his arms, his hair is so thick. Because of this, he didn't notice the smoke until T2 pointed it out.

Partly in surprise and partly to play along, T3 started screaming that he was on fire and dancing about the yard. This was great fun. Right up until the moment that he realized that all the jumping around had fanned the smouldering hair on his arm until it actually burst into flames. T3 then decided to beat out the flames with the item which was handiest, which happened to be the tongs he was holding.

The metal tongs. The ones he'd been using the move the charcoal and mesquite around with.

I was holding him down and T2 had gotten to the hose by then. We managed to get T3 extinguished before any major damage was done. T3 ended up with some minor 1st degree burns which we treated with of sunburn lotion I always kept cool in the refrigerator. The hair on that arm was pretty much a complete loss, but it will grow back.

And Mom doesn't read this website, so she doesn't have to know. Please don't tell her.

Copyright 2005 by Troy H. Cheek. Reprint with prior written permission only. Comments and questions to