Adventures in O2

Friday, we stopped by G-pa's to see if he wanted to go get some ice cream and then go watch the State trooper demonstrate seat belt safety. (field trip!). He said sure, so we went to get his travel tank on and head out. He was turning it and it normally goes without a hitch, so I went out to put the boys in the van. All of a sudden I hear this super high pitched alarm sound going off. I turn around and see Grandpa being blown back by a blast of oxygen. He is holding on with all his might, trying to fall over, and struggling to turn off the tank. I take off running in there (yes, me, running) and cover the blast of oxygen with my hand so he can move away from it and then I finally get it to turn off. Apparently, oxygen is pretty cold because I got frost bite on my hand. It's still a little blue. Ah, sacrificial love.

It turns out that a washer had fallen off the regulator, which then results in the oxygen shooting straight out of the tank as opposed to being nicely sent through the tubing.

So, that's the story. I kind of wish you could have seen it. It's all in slow motion in my head right now. And...pretty funny.

This picture is of Grandpa doing what he does best, telling stories, and my Sister and her littlest guy. That's the face I usually make while Grandpa is talking, too.