We’ve sprung a leak!
There are few things that will wake someone as quickly as the call of a child or the puking of a dog. I was awakened by the latter just after dawn, and threw some sweats on as the puppy hacked and coughed in the only room in the house that has carpet. Of course she did.
I eventually lead her to hardwood and then outside into the rain, where she blissfully pretended I was making up the whole being sick thing. I trudged back inside to clean up, and in the process realized the vomitus contained a thick wad of stuffing the size of a mouse, which had to have come from a toy.
In throwing away the regurgitated mess, I saw water under the sink. Considering it had rained most of the night, I thought maybe a roof leak had occurred. Investigation showed it was actually the plumbing down there, and I set to cussing.
I hate plumbing with a passion. It always looks easy, and if you have the requisite knowledge can be trivial. But I’m always stopped by the most banal questions from hardware store employees: is it left or right hand threaded, 3/4-inch or 1-inch…? I’ve been stalled by others that I can’t even recall now. I find it’s easier to remove and bring everything I possibly can. There will still be questions I can’t answer, but at least I have most of it with me. And that’s just the first trip. There’s always a second trip, and sometimes several.
I shut the water, realize it’s the hot side, and climb a ladder to see if there’s a separate shutoff for hot water coming from the water heater. It does have a valve at the top, and I don’t know if it’s flowing in or out, and there’s no visible indication to inform me. I try cranking the valve and can’t get it to move. I get a wrench, and the valve handle breaks when I apply pressure. Damn it, did it break closed or open? Now I have to replace the handle if not the entire valve as well as the hardware under the sink.
My luck holds true, and as I try to unscrew the shutoff under the sink (also called an angle-stop), the pipe it’s attached to crumbles into rust and corrosion. Okay, instead of replacing a shutoff I now have to replace the T section it’s attached to, and the second shutoff on the other side (one for faucet, one for dishwasher). The T section won’t move at all when I apply wrench and arm.
Alright, I get the dog into the vehicle and make the first trip to Home Depot to get Penetrating Oil to un-stick the T. I look at the angle-stops but have no idea what size pipe is coming out of the wall, so I have to go get it before I can purchase the right parts. <Sigh>
Back home I use the oil and over the next 45 minutes continually apply oil and wrench until not just the T unscrews, but the pipe going into the wall (also called a nipple). Great, I now put the corroded parts all stuck together, and angle-stops into a bag to return to Home Depot and hopefully get the right replacements. On arrival there, I note I have a small metal sliver embedded in my thumb, which I’m reminded of everytime I touch something or try to apply pressure. Amazing how sensitive fingertips - and thumbtips - are to even the tiniest intrusion.
I use my words and ask people for help, and compare what I have to what they have, and eventually leave with all the parts I think I need. I apply plumbers tape (not too much) to all the parts and assemble them. Then I screw the whole shebang into the wall and turn the water back on. It immediately leaks from several locations. Water off again, I disassemble, re-tape, and tighten everything. Same result with water pressure. I try to ease off one of the angle-stops to see if I can re-tape it, and it flies off because some idiot forgot the water was on.
Living along gives you sudden recognition of situations that would be easier with even a slightly below average intelligence grade-schooler assisting. No such help here, I had to leave off holding the ocean back, and run back outside to shut the water. Then I returned to calm the dog who started barking at the 80 pounds of water pressure that had jetted from under the sink into the kitchen.
I hate plumbing.
Again I disassemble and carefully tape and then really tighten all the parts together. You’re never supposed to over-tighten, but how much is tight and how much is over-tight?
So far, I seem to have hit somewhere in the zone. Everything has so far held pressure and no leaks for several hours. The area under the sink is mostly dry now that I’ve soaked up the gallons of water. The kitchen floor is cleaner.
I could actually use water and wash my hands to eat lunch. I pondered my early morning alarm, actually being grateful for it. I would have been ignorant for at least another hour, and that shallow sea would have penetrated further into the cabinetry than it already had. I was saved by puke.