Have I suffered enough?

Did you ever watch the show "Designing Women"? I loved that show because it showed Southern women as strong, independent thinkers -- not as weak-knees "Southern belles."
I'm reminded of a particular episode in which Gerald McRaney, who later married Delta Burke, was a guest star. Gerald played an ex-husband of  Suzanne Sugarbaker -- and he was a writer. During the episode, his character -- Dash -- made the comment that he was surprised to be an author because he didn't think he had suffered enough. Of course, a wisecrack was made about being married to Suzannet should have been punishment enough! And it was passed off as a joke.

So, let's have a look at my week.

Last Monday morning, I ran out of hot water about 20 minutes into my shower. I was practically finished, but it was weird, so I called a friend, who is also a handyman, and asked his opinion.

He suggestion was that it was an old unit and that probably the heating element had gone out. Since this behaved exactly like the last time I had t replace a hot water heater, I agreed that was probably the cause. He promised to come by the next day to take care of it.

Only, that night,  I had hot water. So, I was sure everything was fine.

Wrong again, Tuesday morning, I had no hot water. I stopped at my Big Box store and bought a new hot water heater. My friend picked it up and texted me later that it was working great. I was so happy! I couldn't really afford the expense, but I was so happy to have a hot water heater! Wednesday morning, I had hot water.

Thursday morning, I didn't.  My friend was concerned about an electrical issue, so he contacted a licensed electrician friend of his to stop by and check it out. The electrical all checked out, so I found myself on the phone with technical support for the hot water heater.

They were great! Someone would be by on Friday morning.

Friday morning, I worked from home (I expected to be away an hour or so) so that I could get some much-needed work taken care of. The plumber informed me that before he could do anything to the hot water heater, he had to bring it up to code.

So -- ka-ching -- I paid for that. More expense. Way more. Still -- no hot water.

By then, I had reported back to work and finished my day up. It had been an exhausting week, so I was really glad to look forward to a calm, quiet weekend. I was sure that the next plumber to look at my hot water heater would be able to figure out why it wasn't working!

I ran home, relaxed for 10 minutes, then loaded Angel -- my 3-year-old Black Lab -- into the car and headed off to the vet. I crated 2-year-old Chip (Corgi mix) because I don't completely trust him at the house without Angel. And it's a good thing, because when we returned about 90 minutes later, I found several pools of water -- without a potential source. Then it hit me. My boss had mentioned the possibility of a slab leak. And it looked like she was right!

I called my regular plumber and was told he would be there as soon as he could, probaly around 10-10:30.

One friend came over with her husband and turned my water off -- the dial was spinning like a top!

Another friend came with her husband and brought gallons of water as well as a case of bottled water!

I love them all -- it saved my life!

When the plumber arrived, he determined that the leak was on the hot water side. He turned the water back on, but turned off the spigot at the hot water heater.

It's taken most of two days, but my hot water heater works. Of course, now it's raining, and the dirt dug out from my under house is probably  disappearining down the street! I don't have a tarp to cover it with, and the excavation guys left it uncovered.

Back to Dash, when I heard him say he hadn't suffered enough, it really struck me. And I thought about it as I've gone through the events of this week. It has been incredibly stressful. But I have had supportive family and friends to help eme through it. Although my ups and downs of the week are trivial compared to the crises that so many other are facing right now, I have to wonder.

So -- my question is -- do you have to suffer to be a writer? And if you do, when will it ever stop?

Enough with the pity party! Thoughts, please!