FIRST DAYS

I guess I need to iterate what was going through my head when all of this started and provide some background. In 2007 my wife Lydeana was diagnosed with cancerous colon polyps and had a resection with no subsequent treatments of any kind. Little did we know that was just the beginning. The real blow came a year later when I took her for a colonoscopy on March 28th, 2008 (my birthday) and they found a tumor at the anastomosis site that turned out to be stage 3 colorectal cancer.

This began two years of hell with two colon surgeries back to back in September, and during Thanksgiving, a liver resection due to a metastasized tumor in the left lobe. She was hospitalized a total of 12 weeks including the surgeries that year because the chemo and radiation nearly killed her first. I slept in the floor beside her hospital beds throughout with the exception of 5 or 6 nights when a couple people we knew gave me keys to houses they owned to have a bed to sleep in. We spent the rest of the time at her mother’s house so that someone could help look after both Lydeana and Shayley (my daughter) while I attempted to work, look after our house and take care of our everyday business. All that time I slept on an air mattress in the floor and lived out of a backpack for my basic needs.

I was a real estate appraiser when 2008 hit, so my business was in the pot. I started working part time at Chateau Morissette Winery in several different capacities, kept the appraisal business limping along and took any other odd jobs I could pick up, including working the 2010 Census. It was the perfect storm that caused me to reevaluate my direction and apply for nursing school.

I have to say that through all of this we were supported financially, physically, emotionally and spiritually by an enormous number of people. This ultimately restored my faith in the good in people that 16 years of appraising had eroded to a nub.

After Lydeana was done with systemic chemo in 2010, we looked ahead and tried to resume a normal life within the parameters of the residual effects of what she had just been through. To this day her white blood cell count averages 2.1. The typical range is 4.5-11.0.

Fast forward to 2020. Even-numbered years seem to really suck. We got rid of TV service several years ago and I quit watching and following news for the sake of my sanity. I would catch glimpses on TVs at work and news feeds on my phone that I occasionally viewed, much to my chagrin. The reports of the virus springing up in China were worrisome but surreal, with no good information to gauge it by. As it started hitting the US, those of us in the medical business started contemplating the ramifications. By March, the possible scenarios along with the vast unknowns made me take a hard look at what I needed to do.

We didn’t know much about how the virus worked or spread and I work in the OR, so I considered myself to be the most likely vector to my family. Having fought so hard for Lydeana to survive a decade prior, I was not about to take any chances. Sometime in the last two weeks of March I decided it was necessary for me to stay out of the house. The rusty wheels in my head started breaking loose to formulate a plan.

Two major characteristics I inherited from my parents were 1) being cheap/thrifty and 2) hoarding. They were depression-era babies who grew up on farms where nobody had much, so they made the most of what they did have. It’s a blessing and a curse being brought up like that. I always wanted to make everything instead of buying it, and I had to do it as cheaply as possible. This often backfired because my eyes were bigger than my belly, so to speak. I’d get an idea, then gather and/or buy the necessary supplies and maybe even get started. Something would usually happen in life that required a different focus for a while (cancer, for example) and the project and supplies would be set aside and most times forgotten. In time piles would form, and all that crap would work its way to the nether regions of the piles.

Remarkably, despite my poor memory in general, I can remember where any particular item is located in those random piles as long as I don’t get the crazy urge to organize it all. After an organizational fit I can no longer find anything until I accidentally dig it up, which usually happens immediately after I purchase a replacement.

All this is important because I wasn’t about to live somewhere away from home, and due to the design of our house it was physically impossible to safely co-exist inside without risk of potential exposure. I also didn’t want to spend any more money than I had to. I began digging in piles and assessing what I had to make this happen.

We live on a fairly steep hill with two flat spots big enough for a tent. A flat spot at our back door was not an option due to drainage issues and I didn’t want to kill the grass and live in a mud hole. We have a small extension of the driveway past where we park, and that area accumulated outdoor piles that fortunately contained supplies I would incorporate for my purposes. The only drawback was the river that ran across it any time it rained. This precluded the use of the 9×9 dome tent I have, which should have been used to make diapers due to its tendency to soak up moisture.

I started by erecting a CHEAP 10 x 10 awning. I got online and found CHEAP walls made for it available through Dick’s. Curbside pickup was a strange new thing, and the fear in the air was tangible when the dude threw the package at my truck window as he swapped ends to get back inside.

I discovered the walls were one size fits all for multiple sized awnings and were perfect for none, thus leading to a long procession of making round pegs fit in square holes. They didn’t reach to the ground, so I sandwiched the material between some oak boards I had to stabilize and seal the bottoms. There wasn’t a door on any of the walls, so I jerry rigged one side on the front to flip out of the way.

After a mild rain, I discovered lots of leaks, so I dug out some seam sealer I had to seal those with partial success. I decided to spread another tarp over the entire thing, which put unnatural stresses on the awning frame. Fortunately I have a bamboo patch. Lydeana hates my bamboo patch. I cut some bamboo braces to support the frame both diagonally and laterally. My patch was vindicated and my shelter seemed solid enough.

Next I built a floor with old wood strips under a bunch of 6′ cedar fence boards I had for another project. This was crucial because during an initial rain on my new abode, a literal river ran through it. I couldn’t reasonably dam it or divert it, so I resolved to live above it. I also used two saw horses with cedar boards across them to make a raised bed that I could store junk underneath in plastic totes and buckets to maximize my space. With a take down shooting bench I made years ago and an aluminum truck tool box as my other furniture, I was ready to move in the items I thought were needed to comfortably survive. I did this portion the weekend of March 21 and 22nd.

I had a place to hang my hat, now I needed to start the next vital phase, a place to bathe and take a crap. This is a whole subject to itself so I’ll address it in my next installment….THE BATHROOM.