Well, I’m alive. And, more importantly for you guys, I can see. Which means I can resume some of my writing duties. Mwahahaha.
But before we get back to our regular reindeer games, I need to ask you for some help. Without going into too many details, the picture on the right captures me on the first day of my recovery. Lined up behind my head are all the drugs I was told to take to get me to the point where I could half sit up and kind of smile ten days after I initially presented with “a cough and some labored breathing.”
Trust me, being a patient in an episode of House is no fun. The whole “nearly killing the patient three times” thing gets old quick. For regular watchers of the show, my episode was one of those: “He has this and that??? And the stuff we were giving him for the first thing exacerbated the other thing he had? My doctor, you’re brilliant because nobody could have possibly expected one person to have two things go wrong at the same time!” And like a patient in one of those episodes, I’m pretty thankful for my doctors overall. I can talk. I have still have two eyes. They figured it out in the end. No med mal suit coming from me (assuming no changes for the worse).
But, I was a lawyer. And I want to sue somebody because health care is not free and finding things to blame is just good sport. I want to go after my landlord, but I need some help in making it all fit together.
Let me explain….
On Friday, August 19, the basement in my duplex apartment flooded. That was the Friday before the Friday before Scaricane Irene. This wasn’t an “act of God” flood. This was a “sometimes my basement floods when it rains” flood. My basement has flooded before, and every time building management has assured me the problem has been fixed and it’ll never happen again. I’ve raised warranty of habitability issues with them, and they’ve acknowledged the problem and pledged to fix it.
Of course, I’m a New Yorker, so I trust them for s**t. With my most recent water event, there was no property damage because I’ve learned not to leave any of my property in low places in my basement.
But on Friday the 19th, I was healthily mopping up water, and on Saturday the 20th, I couldn’t get out of bed. I’m convinced the two are connected. I’m convinced that through negligent whatever of their duty to not be a$$holes, my landlord made me very sick.
For the sake of the argument, let’s pretend that I can prove it. Sure, I’ll probably need to allow them to biopsy my tonsils and get CSI team to come in here and analyze the biology underneath my basement tiles, but let’s say I can prove it. Let’s say I can prove a direct link between whatever the hell got me sick and whatever the hell allows unwanted water aggression into my apartment unit.
Can I sue? Somebody? Anybody? It seems to me that my management company can’t be allowed to get me all death-like just because they forgot to provide adequate shelter from rain. Again, we’re not talking about Ark-building flood conditions. We’re talking about rain in the Northeast.
Come on, ladies and gentlemen. Help a brother out. I’m particularly interested in ideas that net me the outstanding balance on my student debts, and ideas that net me the outstanding balance on my student debts without getting me evicted (when it doesn’t rain, I have like a top-ten Manhattan apartment — the basement opens to a good-sized outdoor space). So let’s go outside the box.
And thanks to all the people who expressed concern over my situation. And yes, I decided to go with “expressed concern” over “wished me well” because I’m feeling all nice and inclusive. Don’t get used to it.
Earlier: Where in the World Is Elie Mystal?