Showing posts with label condo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label condo. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 22, 2016

Into each life a little (well, a lot) of poop much flow?




Twice our condominium has been flooded in the past few years.
The first time was from an overflowing toilet two stories above our ground-floor unit. That took six weeks to “mitigate” (i,.e., clean up the mess, replace damaged ceilings, dry out the interior framework, etc.)
Over the weekend, the flood came from below.
First, we thought our aging water heater finally had given up the ghost, expiring in a gush of its Luke-warm contents.
But several hours into sweeping the floodwaters out the front door while Barbara suctioned up what she could with our carpet cleaner, making endless trips to dump the tank on the lawn outside . . . we learned it was not the water heater.
Oh. no. As it turned out, I had been standing barefoot for several hours in sewage overflow from a clogged exterior line. Three other units were flooded, too.
Turning off the main water line, and thus depriving the sewer feeds of ongoing volume, stopped the flow. The stench, and questionable looking debris were left behind.
On the floor. On the walls. On the ruined rugs, shoes and baseboard and carpeting.
The Flood Pros” arrived to assess and make repairs. The sensors showed our flood, indeed, was a “category three” contamination event. In other words, poop.
Two workers came in to tear away the affected walls, insulation, carpeting, etc., and treat the wall interiors with anti-microbial chemicals.
Exhausted, Barb and I watched them work from the couch. One guy, clearing the drain under the water heater from which the flow had gurgled and flowed, suddenly growled with disgust: “CHUNKS! I HATE chunks!”
That, of course, broke our mood of despair, if only for a bit. Laughter and tears.
The work goes on. The condo looks like a war zone. But it won’t always be that way. This, too, will pass.
Still, we’ve gotten far closer to our neighbors, organically speaking, than anyone would ever dream . . . .