Doomed

Sometimes it just seems that somethings are doomed from the beginning, that despite our best efforts there is nothing really to be done to alter their fate and we must really just learn when to finally give in and say enough is enough and put it to rest.  That seems to be the case with our homemade bread yesterday.
My wife has taken to making home made bread and over the past six months or so, has gotten very good at it.  There is nothing quite like a fresh loaf of her whole wheat bread.  Yesterday was the day that she set out to make a few loaves for the week.  I could hear the mixer going when I got up in the morning and I was looking forward to the day...the smell that would fill the house...the taste that would fill my mouth...She made the dough, warmed the oven slightly and placed the loaves in the oven to allow them to rise.  This is where things start to go  bit wrong.
Our daughter has been suffering from an unknown stomach ailment for the last three weeks and so we had called the pediatrician to see whether he wanted a further follow up appointment.  They were able to book us in that afternoon, and being both perplexed and a bit concerned over this undiagnosed problem we jumped at the appointment.  I received a call from my wife an hour or so after the appointment time letting me know that they had ordered more tests and that she was heading to the lab to get the tests done.  All in all it took a number of hours which is not really all that bad, except if you have forgotten the bread in the oven to rise.  The bread had risen over the sides of the loaf pan, down the sides of the loaf pan, and onto the oven rack.  By the time we remembered and found it, it was a pathetic site.  We did our best, however, to salvage it and to coax it back to life.  We put it back into the pans, warmed the oven a bit again and tried to help it rise once again.  It never really did return anywhere near to its former glory, and like those sports celebrities who try to mount a comeback only to make it painfully clear that retirement really was the best option at the time,  we forged ahead but probably should have called it quits.
Right after dinner Kim had to take the girls to dance and so they were out the door leaving me to try to work with the bread.  I knew that it really had not risen well, but did not want to give up.  I preheated the oven and put the bread in to bake.  About five minutes into the process, I could smell that very strong odour that only an electrical fire can create.  I walked all around the house trying to identify the location of the smell, when all of a sudden I could see smoke coming from the electrical panel of my stove.  A few pops and some glowing helped confirm the fact that the electrical panel on my stove had spontaneously ignited!  I was able to pull the stove out, get it unplugged and then get a fire extinguisher through the vent grate to extinguish the flames within the stove head.   All the while, however, the bread was in the oven half baked.
After cleaning up from the fire extinguisher I did look up online to see if bread could be done in the microwave and I did find some instructions.  I tried and tried but by then it was too late.  The trauma was catastrophic and too severe...we tried everything we could but could not resuscitated the bread.  I did not have the heart to call time of death however, and so left it on the counter for the evening.
This morning someone else had been up first and by the time I came down they had compassionately disposed of the bread without a word.  It really seems like the bread was doomed from the start.
Today we will try to determine the future of the oven but I have to be honest, it does not look good.  Even if it can be repaired how comfortable am I using a stove that can spontaneously combust?