Is That ... Going To Stop? (or, Hug Your Plumber)

So yes, the sh*thouse had some plumbing issues which needed to be addressed prior to two rational adult humans occupying it. In short, there was a smell of sewer gas in the basement, which is... not what you want. Based on the information we had, it seemed like the drainage of fresh (rain) water, aka the "drain tile", and the drainage of sewage (gross) were somehow commingled, which is pretty bad. Gotta keep 'em separated.

The plumber who performed the initial diagnosis of the issue wasn't our first pick to perform the work. In addition to the fact that he sort of hung us out to dry during the negotiations with the sellers (a story for another day), his particular style of arithmetic allowed for swings of approximately $5000 when calculating dollar amounts, which is, uh, a lot. So, we booked a few more plumbers to look at the issue and give us a quote.

Kids, if you're considering paying for a liberal arts degree, go ahead and stop listening to whichever parent encouraged you to do that, and then go in to the trades. 

The first couple were not helpful; they basically started by proposing solutions that didn't really have anything to do with the problem as we understood it. However, one of the architects we were speaking with had a strong recommendation with three interesting pedigrees:

1. His children were friends with the architect's children
2. He could not be found on the internet
3. His name was Donnell, which is a real name that a person can and does have.

Donnell turns out to be the best thing out of Ireland since Michael Ryan Flatley, but that's all I'm going to say because he's my plumber now, don't even look at him.

So, Donnell's guys come over, and the following events occur:

1. They discover that the sump pump does not currently have power, and apparently receives power via an extension cord from another room, which is what plumbers would called "improper."
2. The "pit" in the southeast corner of the basement has a fair bit of standing water in it. Worth noting that this "pit" is like the sh*thouse appendix; it must have been put there for a reason, but you can't really establish, with any certainty, what that reason is.
3. We decide to get the sump pump some power to 1) verify that it works and 2) see if it will clear the standing water from the "pit."
4. The sump pump is powered and starts pumping water.
5. Everyone walks over to the pit which is in an adjacent room.
6. There's a gurgling sound.
7. Plumber #1: "that's not good"
8. Plumber #2: [runs]
9. Water starts coming up through one of the floor drains, which is the opposite way water is supposed to move through those.
10. Plumber #2 shuts the sump pump off and establishes that "the drain isn't flowing." Yeah, I'd say that's a safe bet.
11. Back at the pit, the standing water is removed with a shop vac, and a cleanout is discovered at the bottom. This is good news, because in order to put a camera down the sewer (which needs to be done at this point), you need an access point like this one.
12. Plumber #2 starts loosening the bolts at the top of the cleanout, and then...

I don't think you can really understand real terror until you've witnessed raw sewage literally spraying out of a pipe, rapidly filling a pit in the basement of a home that you officially own and no one can save you from and you are forced to have the thought ...

... is that ... going to stop?

First lesson in plumbing school (apparently): always have a long claw hammer within arm's reach in the event you need to hold a sh*t explosion at bay. Second lesson? Yell "Eric, get the vac!!"

So then I watched two men bucket brigade human waste out of my basement and I thought maybe I shouldn't write that thing on the blog about going in to the trades. Then, Plumber #2 kept asking Plumber #1 what he wanted for lunch and making gross suggestions and it was funny and I felt better.

So, once the pipe was, uh, unencumbered, all parties agreed that we'd moved from the diagnosis phase to the for-the-love-of-Mary-please-prevent-that-from-ever-happening-again phase.

After a trip back to the shop, a couple hours of clearing the sewer line of unmentionables (and a considerable number of tree roots) and a new sump pump, by some miracle we were left with a sewer line which was reasonably serviceable and fully capable of accommodating the, uh, "flow" from the house and the sump pump. Hooray!

At this moment, I realize that I haven't actually established with Donnell how much currency he's going to want in exchange for these goods and services. [Linemouth]

Donnell doesn't even ask for cash on the spot, and asking for cash on the spot is typically how these things go, and thus, my concern level goes up. He says he'll send me an invoice. I am now in a moderate panic because apparently his typical clientele is rich enough to expect "invoices."

Miracle #2, it's actually more than $5000 less than the original plumber's estimate. If you'll recall, this was within the original plumber's margin of error, but we were nevertheless thrilled that it was in our favor.

Donnell will need to come back as we're getting deeper in to the renovation process, but for now, we've got a gas-free house. (Well, I still live there, but...)