Okay, first? I’ve have a cocktail or two under my belt. Just sayin’.
So, really, what else could possibly happen? Well, a burst water pipe that floods the garage and necessitates an emergency call to a plumber, that’s what. I went downstairs to the garage for something this afternoon – I don’t even remember what, and I almost never go down to the garage because it creeps me out so much – and noticed water pooled on the floor. My first inclination, in all seriousness, was this: “If I turn around and go back inside and pretend I never saw it, it’ll be like it’s not actually happening.” That thought lasted for approximately 3.75 seconds. But alas, maturity and responsibility won out, and I was forced to call Michael at the hospital – that’s right, I called my poor, recovering-from-major-abdominal-surgery-zoned-out-on-pain-meds husband like the ninny I really am and said, “What do I do?” He instructed me to turn off the main water line and see if there was a loose connection on the water heater, which has actually been prone to leaking of late. So I went back downstairs to investigate further, whereupon I discovered water pouring out of a hole in the wall above the water heater in the dark, creepy little utility closet in the garage, home to the rat ghosts. My next thought? “Fuck.” Clearly I had to call a plumber stat, and I’m already mourning the thousands of dollars this is going to cost.
The plumber, someone we’ve used before, was here in ten minutes (cue the Lone Ranger music). Turns out it was this that caused the torrential flooding:
See that little pinhole? That’s the sucker that wreaked havoc on my garage! A corroded copper pipe. Anyway, ended up only costing a couple hundred to fix, not a couple thousand. We do need a new water heater, but that’s not the immediate concern, so. It could have been worse!
So Kevin and I spent the afternoon dragging everything out of the flooded half of the garage (why, oh why, does my husband keep so many empty boxes?!?), and I swept as much of the standing water out as I could, and hopefully everything will dry out in the next day or so.
You know that saying, “When it rains, it pours”? It’s become a comedy over here. I mean, what’s next? Maybe my truck will break down or one of my kids will break a bone. Bring it on! I’m feeling feisty.
I am, in all seriousness, in surprisingly good spirits. I have so many good people in my life, and they’re all converging on us with food and offers of help, and just plain love. I am a very lucky woman.
I saw Michael this morning. when I got to his room, they had him sitting up in a chair, and while I was there, they had him get up and walk a little for the first time since surgery. He’s doing as well as they expect him to be doing. He’s still doped up and faded in and out while I was there. Later in the day, after I left, he was moved out of ICU and back to the regular floor, so that’s a sign of progress. He texted me later that they put a PICC line in, which felt like a setback to me, as it harkens back to his cancer treatment, but in reality, I guess this is apparently the new thinking, that PICC lines are better than long-term IVs as far as risk of infection, etc. I talked to him on the phone a little while ago and he’s developed a low-grade fever. I’m trying not to worry. He’s in good hands, right?
I miss him.