Whoa! You Gotta Hate That, Minnesota!

For the last couple of years, I’ve been living with a nasty case of avascular necrosis. In English, that means that my hip joints are disintegrating, more on the right than on the left, to the point where I can’t walk without going go snap, crackle, and pop, like a bowl of Rice Krispies™. When I stand upright (which takes great effort and I have to hold onto something) it’s evident that my right leg is about an inch shorter than the left. It sucks, but I’m adapting: I use a walker around the house, and when I go out in the world I have my trusty electric wheelchair. I can get myself downstairs from my upstairs unit using upper body strength, and with a little help from my friends, I’m getting by.

The biggest challenge I have now is maintaining hygiene. I have a shower stool to sit on, but I can’t raise my leg to step over the side of the bathtub without excruciating pain. So we decided to rip out the tub and replace it with a step-in shower.

In retrospect, this was a mistake.

Installation was delayed at first when the installer had a personal emergency. It was disappointing but we understood. The installer came back and started the work, beginning with ripping out the old tub. That’s when the problems started.

One of the nicest thing about that old bathtub was that it was always warm in winter, which I always figured was because there were heating pipes running under the tub. But no—the heater was built into the side of the tub, and couldn’t be removed because it was part of our building’s heating system. So now we have to get building maintenance involved. They’re back there behind closed doors, making scary noises with power tools, and we’re trying to re-schedule the install for when they’re done. In hindsight, we should have had them come first, or scheduled them to work in concert with the installers.

So how am I bathing during this time? I’m not. Thankfully, I’m retired. But I do have some social obligations I’m missing out on because I won’t present myself in public smelling like this. (You’re welcome.) A sink bath is hard since I can’t stand up, though I’m trying.

Right now the bathroom looks like this:

So whose fault is this? It’s our fault. I can’t fault the contractor, because we should have done the research and due diligence to make sure the project is even feasible looked before we signed up for this. I can’t even fault the building management, because the place is fifty years old and the builders are probably long gone from this world. We looked before we leapt, and now we’re stuck mid-job with no working shower, and I smell like a locker room.

So, next time you see one of those one-day bath or shower packages advertised on television, make sure you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into. Get a home inspection before you even think about the remodel. Find the builder if you can, or at least the blueprints. Trust me, it’s not nearly as easy as they make it look on television.

Sorry, Casey.