Everyone Has Their Kryptonite, Including Me

Life is like a punt return. You can call for a fair catch or you can catch the ball, take a chance, run like hell, and who knows, you might just find the end zone...

After the cortisone shot wore off, I limped around for weeks waiting to have arthroscopic knee surgery. Because work was scarce at the time (1995), I took everything that came my way trying to keep the cupboards full and my three boys fed, knowing I'd be out of work for a while after the surgery.

Just days before the surgery, I got a call to replace an 80-gallon electric water heater. I couldn't pass it up, it was a good payday. I picked up the tank and headed to the customer's house...

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When I got there I was surprised to see the horse stables out back and no fewer than ten miniature Shetland ponies and dozens of cats roaming the property. That wouldn't be a problem for most plumbers, but I'm highly allergic to cats and horses and this place was definitely my Kryptonite…

The water heater was in the basement, on the other side of an empty two-car garage under. I devised a plan. I'd handle it like I was on a SWAT team, my goal to be quick and efficient with my movements. I'd mask up, bring in only the tools I needed for each specific part of the job, and then wait outside until I was ready for the next phase, limiting my exposure to the cat dander, horse blankets, and the saddles that were being stored in the basement.

On my first trip in I took my pump, hose, extension cord, voltage tester, and some hand tools in with me. I worked quickly, locating the electrical panel first and shutting the circuit marked "water heater". Next, I opened the cover on top of the tank and carefully removed the wire nuts and tested them to be sure the power was off because electrocution is never an option. Then I shut the cold water feed and attached my pump to the tank drain and ran my 50-foot hose through the garage and onto the grass beside the driveway. Once the pump was plugged in and running, I unboxed the new tank while I waited to hear the sound of the pump motor change tone and saw the hose start to sputter. I was doing okay at that time, the SWAT thing was working out.

When the pump tone changed and the hose started to sputter, I knew the tank was empty. I headed back inside to pull the plug on the pump and remove it along with the hose. I had my mask on and moved quickly. When I had everything outside I suddenly felt like someone had cinched a plastic bag over my head. I removed the mask and began posturing, trying to catch my breath. I took out my emergency inhaler and desperately tried to use it to open my lungs. It wasn't working. I knew I was in trouble and I needed to be on the breathing apparatus I kept at my house. The homeowner saw me struggling and came out and asked if I was okay. I said that I wasn't and that I had to leave, but I'd be back. She was freaking out, she didn't want the plumber's widow hiring a fancy lawyer and taking all her miniature ponies away…

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I jumped in my van, pedal to the medal, and headed for home. It was a 15-minute ride across town, I made it in ten, but at one point, I started to whiteout. I didn't think I was going to make it… I pulled into my driveway and crawled into my house, set up my nebulizer, and started treatment with Albuterol Sulfate. Usually, one vial opens my lungs, but with one vial down the hatch, little had improved. I stared at the clock and realized precious time was slipping away, I couldn't go on like this much longer. I almost dialed 911, but instead, I emptied a second vial into the nebulizer, hoping a second dose would do the trick. I didn't want to die in the kitchen and be discovered by my kids when they came home from school. Who knows, they might've walked right past me and gone downstairs to play video games. (I hope not!)

Halfway through the second vial, nothing had changed. I started to panic, and panic is never a good thing. I decided that when the second vial was done if I wasn't able to breathe I'd immediately call 911. At the very end of the treatment, I felt my lungs open. I could breathe.  I called my doctor and he said to have a cup of black coffee to speed up my heart rate and then come right in. Before I left I called another local plumber/friend and he completed the job for me. Believe it or not, even after the near-death experience,  I was still pissed about giving up the water heater install and the payday…

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I had had an anaphylactic reaction and it scared the crap out of me. My doctor said no more houses with cats or horses. Avoiding horses was much easier than avoiding cats. I was a residential plumber, 98% of my work was in houses. I figured I'd lose 25% of my customers, but after changing my phone message to include "Due to allergies, I no longer work in houses with cats", which led to a lot of obscene voice messages (use your imagination), I lost close to 50% of my customer base. I started screening calls and making sure potential customers didn't have any cats, but in several instances, customers desperate for plumbing repair lied and hid their cats. One guy saw me heading downstairs to shut the water main in his house and he basically hip-checked me to get in front of me and beat me downstairs. I ran up behind him and saw him trying to hide the litter box. Everything was apart upstairs and I had to finish the job in a hurry. I showed absolutely no mercy with the final bill. I was sick for two days.

This is the time when a good punt returner reverses field and heads in the opposite direction. I applied to be a substitute teacher at the local Vo-Tech and ended up getting hired as a full-time plumbing instructor. I taught plumbing for 15 years in vocational schools where I was able to avoid cats and horses.

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Alexander Graham Bell once said "When one door closes another opens". It's true. Sometimes you have to reverse field to find some open space. This would not be my last punt return. I had one more in me that included a complete change of direction, several stiff arms, and some great blocking. I found the end zone again and this time it was at Barstool Sports!

(Oh, the knee surgery went well…)