A ruined rice cooker

It's been less than a week since my mom has left, and I'm already up to mishaps in the kitchen. I didn't check the holding plate in the microwave oven before setting it to cook some rice. I walked away, not seeing that the plate wasn't revolving, so all the heat and light was focused on one spot of the plastic cooker. It melted horribly.

When I first smelled a strange odour, I thought, hmm, someone's baking cookies? A couple of minutes later, I realized the smell (and by now it had changed to something rather unpleasant) was coming from my own microwave oven. It was smoking. A fair bit of the cooker was left in a puddle of creamy plastic on the plate. I dumped both cooker and the destroyed rice and threw open the windows. How much damage can you do to your lungs if you breathe in the smoke of burnt plastic for several hours? It was a chore chasing out the fumes from my apartment. The smell is still lurking in my kitchen. I rescued Milou and placed her in the safety of my wardrobe; hopefully the air inside was better. I also hope she wasn't expecting cookies.