I was losing my mind. another week of chirp beeps-- cheeps, shrill birdlike squeals.
I had endured them the week before as the smoke alarm died, out of reach.
My aid comes once a week and so i just held on, stayed up late, played music, radio, TV to cover the sound.
So the first thing I had her do was find the sound's source-- it was the basement-- and then the fun
began. She said there was no battery. There has to be--- it is squeaking-- the sound of battery dying.
So she went downstairs again and said there were electric wires but no battery. So i had her take a picture (o the joy of digital cameras).
She did and when i looked at it I said-- this looks like a case that you can open.....
To shorten the long story I ended up calling the fire department. I only have her for two hours once a week and I needed groceries. She annoyed me as she named
various men I could call. I've never called anyone other than
the plumber for repair, nevermind having to call someone to replace a battery?!!! This is the hell of being wheelchair bound. That I can't do what i once did and am dependent on people who can't do what i once did for myself.