Curses, Jinx, Tribulation, Whammy, Calamity, Disaster

Yikes. What's all this right?

Well, it seems my poor husband and I have had nothing but all of the above since we bought this house. Coincidence? Maybe. But good lord, it's getting insane.

Pull up a chair and take a read.

It actually started the day we moved in, but we'll skip ahead.

The basement started getting wet almost immediately. We called the insurance company, haha, and they told us to jump in the river. What you pay for insurance for, I'm sure I have no idea.

It was a finished basement, but we had to break it all down to bare walls and floor. Then the waterproofing started. Literally gallons and gallons of Dry Lock, then cement. When all that was finally dry, we went about spending over $2000 on wood, walls, carpet, tile, you name it. JUST when it was hours away from completion, all done by hand by my husband, the water started coming in again. Now some of the carpet is ruined, it stinks down there, well, screw us.

Let's wind back. In the middle of this foolishness and mayhem, I discovered my parents were having terrible money problems, I tried to help, but we were strung out as well, between the move, the house, repairs. Then in December, very suddenly and shockingly, my dad passed away IN the house. My mom found him. Couldn't have been a worse situation. We had to get ready, jump in the car, not knowing what was going on, and drive to Long Island, only to find the house in disarray from the ambulance corps, and my dad gone.

So began a hideous road.

He left my mom in just simply horrifying financial shape. He kept everything a secret and we found out he left an enormous amount of bills no one knew about, which I had to weed through. During this time, I was staying on Long Island, my husband calls and says his cat died. Strike 2.

My mom's house is in danger of foreclosure, taxes hadn't been paid for years, IRS taxes not paid, a nightmare. So I've been arranging and paying all her bills, trying to straighten it out as much as possible, as well as handle all OUR bullshit.

March. Diagnosed with breast cancer.

It was right after this shocking and devestating turn of events, the basement got all wet again.

Medicare tells me to go to hell, as does NY State, Medicaid and everyone else I've contacted. So we're facing tens of thousands of dollars in debt. Not to mention, fighting to save my life, losing my hair, looking like a freak, feeling like my poor husband just wants to run out the door and keep going till he reaches Canada.

As you all know, my mom doesn't even know about the BC.

OK, you still with me?

Since the wet basement there's been a terrible smell in here. I'm thinking, well, my resistance is low because of chemo, am I going to get sick?

So this morning, my husband had to be in work at 8am. I, for some unknown reason, get up at 7am. Never ever do on Saturday. But there I was. He's getting ready for work and I say, 'what the hell is that smell? Is that the basement?" "Yeah, we got do something about this soon."

He's in the bathroom, the smell is getting worse, so I open the basement door and to take a sniff and see why it's so strong. Smoke, horrible overwhelming smell. I run back to the bathroom, tell him, we have to turn off the emergency furnace switch, open all the windows, carbon monoxide meter is going off. So the furnace, boiler, whatever the hell it is, is now off, we don't know what is going on, we're waiting for someone to come, he had to call in sick, Long Island is off, this is going to cost who knows what, and it's an endless parade of bad luck, curses, calamity, disaster, it never ever ever ends. I'm getting to the point where I'm afraid to get up. Maybe divine intervention made it happen today. Because if it did happen after we left tomorrow for the Island, the cat would absolutely be dead from carbon monoxide poisoning and the house probably would have combusted.

There hasn't been ANY happy times in this house. Absolutely none. I look back to living in a small apartment on Long Island as bliss. I didn't have cancer, my dad was alive, we're weren't buried alive in debt.

What's that saying? What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger? Well, based on that, I should be able to lift a 747.

I really am becoming so downtrodden, and my husband is reaching the end as well.

I do fear what's next.