Plumbing 101

You may ask yourself, “Self, why is there water currently running in a large stream out of the faucet in this Hootchie’s bathtub”? The answer is simple; the same reason I couldn’t flush the toilet this morning. Oh, why is that? Again, simple… because Richy replaced the bathroom sink faucet. 

Yes, you read that right. The bathtub is broken and the toilet can’t be flushed because the sink was worked on. 

I’m not sure how this happened. What I do know is this: a few weeks ago, Richy changed the shower head to a lovely push-button adjustable shower head with several settings. It is brushed copper, a lovely dark color, and I have enjoyed it. Well, a few days ago, Richy sent me a text asking only “Brushed Tuscan copper, or brass, or stainless steel?” Well, having absolutely no other information, I chose brushed Tuscan copper. Richy said that was the right answer, and came home with a bathroom sink fixture that is the same color of the showerhead. It is a nice brand, and looks great in the bathroom. The only drawback is that changing the faucet somehow initiated a leak in the sink pipes. There is now a plastic garbage can under the sink collecting the drainage.

 

That was okay, really, the leak. Richy just needed one little seal or nut or some kind of doodad, so no big deal.  Well, the bathroom was looking pretty good, so why not make all of the knobs and faucet fixtures match? It must have seemed like a good idea to Richy, so he brought home a bathtub handle to match the showerhead and leaky sink. He also brought home a shower head water filter and needed to install that. He managed to install the filter fairly easily and he showed me how much softer the water felt. I made many impressed faces and went back to whatever I was doing. 

Then I heard it.  Suddenly, he seemed to be running the bathtub wide open. I mean, it sounded like a waterfall in the bathroom, but I just kept to myself. Above the roar of whatever hell was breaking loose in the bathroom, I heard “Hey baby?” “Thereeeeeesa”.  Why would he want me in there? I soon found out. 

I walked into the bathroom and he had the shower curtain stretched as far across the tub as possible and the roar of the water sounded like I was under a waterfall. He yelled over the din “Baby! Hold the curtain like this! I gotta shut the water off!”  I held the curtain, all the while making sure he didn’t feel I doubted his ability to do plumbing work. He left the bathroom and went out to turn the water off and I took the tiniest peek behind the curtain.  OH NO! Water was jetting out of a hole in the bathtub where the handle USED to be at. I had no idea why there was just a hole where a handle should be, but the water was coming out at the rate of a firehose! I had no idea that household water pressure would be that intense and I had no idea what to do. The tub was filling faster than it could drain, water was being sprayed out of every available space around the shower, the floor was soaked, and all that stood between me and drowning was a very thin octopus shower curtain.

Finally, he got the water off and the nuclear blast of hot water coming from the new shower hole subsided to a drip and then off. Richy came back and helped me find my way carefully out of the soggy bathroom after which he shut the door and began working again with all of the water in the house shut off. Finally at some point in the night, Richy decided he just didn’t have the right part (a copper ring that blew right off the faucet when that water blasted it’s way out of the hole). He called it a night and went to bed after filling one pitcher of water to flush the toilet if we needed to use it.

I had to use the bathroom once in the night, and then this morning when I woke up, but didn’t dare to flush. I brushed my teeth with bottled water, but couldn’t wash my hands, so I sanitized them and started my day. Richy left for Lowe’s soon after and (finally) bought the ring he needed. He came back after trying to find it unsuccessfully at four stores, and finally found it at the fifth store. Proud of his accomplishment, he came back and quickly fixed the shower hole. He showed me that it was put together. He had to go back to work, so he left and I decided to take my shower. 

It really was a nice shower. The filter did make the water seem somehow softer and it rinsed off better. The shower head is a water conservation kind, so I had plenty of hot water to wash, shave my legs, exfoliate my feet, and luxuriate in the bubbles and pretty soap smells. I took all the time I wanted, rinsed one final time and turned the water off. Well, I tried to turn the water off. The handle wouldn’t go down far enough to turn the water all the way off. A steady stream of warm water about the size of my thumb was happily pouring out of the faucet without a care in the world for my water bill. I quickly got dressed and tried again to turn it off. No luck. 

Eventually, I had to give up and call Richy. He came back home from work and had to take the handle apart to get the water off again. Of course, the water had to be turned off. 

And now I have to pee. Welcome to my life.

The Man Card

Today’s topic is a direct result of my experience with men and their reluctance to seek medical care under any circumstances. 

Last night my darling Richy nearly impaled himself. I’m talking, he was actually afraid to move because he didn’t know how he would get himself off of the branch that was jutting up from the ground. He accomplished this near-impalement by jumping off of a ledge onto a crumbling brick wall that was already leaning about 30 degrees. (Get ready to make a surprised face…) because funny enough, the crumbling wall fell out from under him when he landed, and sent him sprawling with all that momentum behind it. He landed on his back on top of where a large bush had been sawed down, but still had about twelve inches of very sharp branches sticking up. His spine landed on the biggest limb and then his side landed on a shorter limb. That’s where he thought he’d been impaled. 

This is an actual picture of what Richy fell on! Yikes right!??

Richy lay there for what seemed like five minutes, though I’m sure it couldn’t have been that long. Finally, he dared to move and realized that even though the sawed off branch had cut him and hurt him, it had not actually stuck itself inside of him and he was able to get up. Unsurprisingly – He packed up and called it a day, and came home.

This morning, the man could barely sit up. It took him a good seven or eight minutes to actually maneuver himself out of bed. I saw him grimace and heard him groan. I saw his eyes water with the pain; and this is a man who was shot in Bosnia, he has a purple heart. He fell down a flight of stairs, broke his kneecap and helped a friend move the next day. Hell, he was bitten by a rattlesnake. This is not a weenie of a man, and his back was hurting him to the point that he couldn’t put his own sweater on. 

I pleaded with him to take the day off today and go to an urgent care or doctor, so obviously he listened to me and did exactly that. Haahaa! I love a good joke as well as anyone. No, what he did was give me a face that clearly stated that I regularly drool on myself and he went to work. 

Why?

Is there some health class guys take in high school where they tell them if they seek medical attention, their genitals will fall off? Is there a Man Card they have to turn in at any emergency room they dare to enter? Maybe men just assume if anything medical has to happen to them they are going to end up with a surprise prostate exam, I don’t know. 

Man: “Doc, I broke my arm and there is a bone sticking out from my elbow.”

Doctor: “Well, drop your pants, we need to make sure your prostate wasn’t affected.”

I think this is what they must believe, otherwise, what reason do they have to avoid an exam and possibly legal drugs?

I’ll tell you, I don’t know what makes them run screaming in the opposite direction of any medical staff, but they all do it. My dad had a heart attack and ended up with a quadruple bypass. This was a bad heart attack. It took me arguing with him all night to get him to go to the E.R.  An ex of mine dropped the front end of a loaded trailer on top of his foot. It turned purple and black and he couldn’t walk. No doctor. Another time, that same ex nearly died of pneumonia (to the point that his doctors told me to go ahead and call any family who might want to see him) because he wouldn’t go to a doctor during the previous two weeks that I had tried to get him to go. My brother has had two really bad illnesses because he avoided having a doctor anywhere near him until he was thirty-five years old. I have seen men I personally know, duct tape a wound, but refuse to get, you know, sterile stitches. 

Now, I know we don’t all have insurance or the money for medical bills, but come on, there are just some things you should get checked out. Like, landing on a sawed off tree branch, spine first; little things like that.

Captain’s Log: Quarantine Day 483

Captain’s Log: Quarantine Day 483

Well, the year is 2020 AD and the earth has had enough of our shit, so she has resorted to viral warfare in the form of COVID-19. Honestly, it should be a warning to us that if we don’t stop crapping up the planet, she will eventually shake us off like a bad case of fleas. With that being said, I have been quarantined inside my house since February, and I’m pretty sure it’s been, in the words of Usher, fiftyeleven days, umpteen hours since I’ve seen anyone other than the one human I live with and my dog. I’m immunocompromised and really not looking to have a flu virus take me out after surviving two strokes, kidney failure, and a heart attack. That just wouldn’t seem fair. 

So, to stay as safe as possible, I have been having my groceries delivered and my boyfriend has been braving the outdoors to bring home toilet paper (when available) and supplies. Grocery delivery has been a pretty interesting service during this time of panic-buying and hoarding. One poor guy, Justin, from Instacart, did it last time and had to basically replace everything on the list. He tried so hard, though. He sent me pictures (see slideshow) of the bread and meat aisles in Kroger with nothing in them. He couldn’t get all 10 of my yogurt flavors, but he found six random ones including a single blackberry yogurt which was hidden at the back of the shelf. 

Grocery shopping in this manner makes cooking interesting. You might get cream of mushroom soup, but just maybe not in your preferred brand, OR you might get cream of celery, and you just roll with it. You might have planned on having barbecued ribs for dinner, but you ended up with boneless pork chops, so now you’re having pork chops instead, and cream of celery soup for dessert and that’s just life with the Rona.

The deliveries are what I enjoy. Honestly, it’s the only time I get to interact with other people (besides Richy, who is great, but not new and he works most of the day). I have stood at my front door, talking, six feet away, to random delivery strangers for a good seven or eight minutes, just to have a new interaction. I have refrained from actually bribing these strangers not to leave my porch, but I’m not ruling it out as an option in the future. 

I’ve seen my daughter, who brought me black market toilet paper, and my son and his girlfriend once since all this started (and I couldn’t hug them which broke my little mommy heart). I’ve got a friend who comes by to check up on me occasionally, and I’ve got Richy. That’s my entire group of interaction during Rona-2020. As a slight introvert, you’d think this would make me a pretty happy house goblin, but it turns out, I’m more inclined to be social than I thought. Either that, or I have a problem with authority and want to only go outside when I’m told I am not allowed to. Either way, I miss people… but I’ll tell you this, if I had to get stranded in a house with only one person and one dog, I’m glad I have the ones that are here.