In the meantime….
My downstairs toilet made a gurgling noise two nights ago. There was nothing in the toilet so I flushed it to see if the noise would stop. Instead of flushing down, water rose to the top. Despite my professional plunger efforts, the water would not go down.
I shut the water valve to the toilet off before running to home depot (literally across the street) to purchase Green Goblin to destroy the issue…I thought. I always used this in our old home and had great success. Anywho…never had to use the Green Goblin as I returned home and saw that the toilet had drained. Whew. Bullet dodged.
I made a quick trip to Walmart (a block away) to grab a few groceries…maybe gone 20 minutes. I came back to such a surprise! Poop water (aka sewage…aka Class 3 according to the restoration man) had flooded every crevice from the downstairs bathroom, down the hall, down the stairs into my split level living room and into the living room.
An.explosion.of.poop. Everybody’s poop. Thank God my adrenaline was pumping so hard that I didn’t have time to stop and reflect on the new floor covering. I knew my friend was on his way over so we could watch a movie and have dinner. Honestly, my first thoughts were that he was going to gross out and leave me here to deal with this. I would need to call my brother or my ex husband.
I had begun laying towels everywhere when friend (we will call him D) walked in. I yelled for him to be careful. Without explanation; he knew what was on the floor. Instead of leaving, he grabbed towels and started helping me with the mess. Together we cleaned, using every single towel, sheet and blanket that we could find. I know…gross.
We had almost everything cleaned. I began my second round of sanitizing laundry and we decided to go to Home Depot for a big mop. We made another expedient trip there, grabbed a mop and $5 mop bucket (Did you know some mop buckets cost $70 or more?)
We came home, ready to mop and sanitize; shower and order dinner…in that order! Can you imagine the expletives that sounded when we walked in to find that sudsy water had now flooded the entire living room floor? As a matter of fact, that water was still shooting out of the sink in the bar area as well as from underneath the sink where the pipes are.
We did our best to keep up but it would not stop (yes, D shut the water valve under the sink off). He mopped, and I (with gloved hands) squeezed the mop….since I didn’t buy the $70 bucket with the squeezee apparatus. We were our own Saturday Night Live episode…from back in the good ole days…when SNL was super funny!
D told me to shut the washing machine off when he surmised that is where the water was coming from. He was correct. The pouring of water stopped. Finally. The floor was soaked, we were drenched in water and poo water and all the yuck; still we were laughing. So thankful for D’s presence and willingness to help….sometimes we need a friend to help us not become blithering balls of tears curled up in the fetal position, right? Sometimes those friends are the same ones laying curled up with us…but that’s for another post.
I felt that the floor needed just one more round with the mop. D told me we had done all we could for the night; the floor was slippery and I needed to stay off of it so I didn’t fall. I know I have balance issues, true. I didn’t realize the floor was quite as slippery as it was.
Being a tiny bit of a stubborn soul, I decided yes to one more round with the mop. I headed down the steps into the living room. My bare feet gave way to the wet floor. There I was…on my bottom, sliding down the hard, sharp edged stairs. One, two, three, I hit each of them with my booty, tailbone and right hip. Ouch.
This was reminiscent of being a little kid who loved sliding down the carpeted stairs on her booty. Reminiscent because I slid down so easily; yet entirely a different experience. D helped me up. Kind of. As much as I would allow. Falling tends to make me feel fearful…too much passing out as a kid. Yuck.
Anyway….I had attempted to call my property management company emergency number several times, as well as their office, when this was happening. I never got a call back. I finally reached out the the owner of my condo and told him. He was sending a plumber in the morning. I felt it needed to be right then, but I am not the decider of all things.
In the morning, the property management company called. By now, I was fuming that they had not called me and been a part of any of this. Long story short, the office person tends to be extremely rude, makes me feel like a criminal any time I report something and now was asking numerous questions that supported her past behavior. I felt she was trying to make this my fault.
I sent an email of complaint and asked for her supervisors number. I did not get that yet. I have gotten a sudden amount of kindness when she speaks to me. I still want to speak with the supervisor.
The restoration company is now ripping out the entire living room floor bc of the class 3 damage. When the owner was speaking with the property management company, she asked him to step away from me to talk. This was obvious and confirmed when I asked him about it later. My mistrust in her affirmed in that moment.
Thank God the plumber found NOTHING in the system that was not supposed to be there. I was well aware that if the clog were due to feminine products, we would be responsible. (We grew up with a very touchy septic system and our Daddy drilled it into our heads that only toilet paper went down the toilet. If there was a clog, we girls knew the first question from Dad would be; “Did you flush anything that shouldn’t be flushed?”) My daughter and I are both extremely cautious about this as are our guests (at least we make them aware…I never have actually accompanied anyone on their potty break). Still…lots of teenage girls so that was a thought on my side too.
I am sure the property company management (PMP} lady dislikes me. Or she likes to pretend she dislikes me for fun? At this point, the owner might dislike me too and I hate that possibility.
PMP lady has told me the owner is frustrated with all of ‘my issues’. I reminded PMP lady that with exception to one issue and this, everything I have turned in has been existent since before we moved in on March 24 of this year. It takes me several times to get a response and then several weeks for them to provide the cheapest solution possible. I’m sure the owner is paying them and I wonder if this is just how the system always works.
Enough of that! Last night, the precious people from the restoration company were working hard well past 8 pm. I came downstairs to get a drink and didn’t realize that it was wet at the bottom of the stairs.
I was made aware of the wetness as my bottom again made contact with the ground, magically, I bounced off the same areas this go round too! The people working were super kind and tried to help me up. I assured them I was fine and just needed a moment.
Truly not their fault, I just didn’t anticipate the wet floor. I am moving around like a little ole lady this morning! Lol but not really lol.
Here it is…no matter who is pleased with me or not (and lately it seems like a lot more not than this lady is comfortable with)…I’m okay.
God has my back and He is Good. All of the time. Even as I walk through literal s*h&t, he provides a tangible friend here for me and always His mighty love. The question remains as always…will I accept it?
Still, my bum hurts.