Hot Zone Hi-Jinks

This weekend we did HazMat training with the fire brigade. You know those scenes from horror plague end of the world type movies where innocent civilians turn around to see figures in creepy looking sci-fi enclosed breathing suits with dark alien masks bursting into their living rooms and dragging everyone screaming into Silkwood-type scrub-down showers? That's us.

We thought it was hot, hard work when we did the breathing apparatus training. Ha ha ha! They were just teasing us. For hazardous materials / hazchem emergencies, we have to wear the breathing apparatus protective kit and, over that, another layer of completely airtight chem-suits and several layers of gloves. Then your team buddy comes along and duct tapes your wrists and ankles; this is the point at which you suddenly think, "I need to go to the toilet." At the same time, you suddenly develop an unbearable itch on your nose as sweat starts trickling down your face inside the BA mask.

So our job on a hazmat callout is to get suited up, go in, try to identify the hazardous material without touching it or inadvertently triggering a massive explosion, write everything on a big piece of card, then carry the card over to the edge of the "hot zone" where your Officer In Charge takes note of what you've found and calls the experts while you stand in the "hot zone" hoping you're not going to die from some sort of horrifying military experimental biological product or pass out from the heat inside your 79 layers. Oh, yeah, also if you find a casualty, you drag them out too and dump them in the decontamination area to be given the Silkwood treatment. Once the OIC gives you the all clear, it's your turn in the decontamination shower. Fun!

Gary and I ended up being team partners. We demonstrated team support by Gary duct-taping my mouth and me turning off his air supply in retaliation. Then we were quizzed on what kinds of hazmat plans the state brigade has in place for various situations, and I asked if they had one for alien space invaders. Everyone laughed but Jason, our instructor, said, "Yes, they do." I knew it! I asked Jason if that meant that the government knows that there are actually aliens, but he went all cagey. If we do have to deal with aliens on a callout though, they wouldn't understand a word from us as all you can hear from someone talking in a chem suit is "Mrrrph hrgh blahrrrgh toilet". Oh well - a quick scrub down in the decon tank will sort them out.