Clogged Sink

Plugged Sink: Day One

Of all the little jobs around the house, plumbing is the worst.

Water cannot be trusted. It is a solvent. That doesn't mean it solves all your problems. It means that it dissolves your house. Drop by drop, splash by splash, puddle by puddle. It is insidious, invisible, incredibly annoying.

Why did we ever bring these pipes into our house anyway? Because we like to wash our hands, our faces, our bodies? Because we like to flush things down the toilet? Because we like to hear the sump pump go off in the middle of the night, reminding us that it is still working hard in the middle of the rainstorm to keep our basement dry? (Or, conversely, to not hear the sump pump go off in the middle of the night, making us panic to think that it is not working hard in the middle of the rainstorm but has died a horrible death instead, a precursor to the impending doom of our basement).

Water pipes are self-centered, selfish wastrels who are just waiting for an opportunity to clog up and send your life down the proverbial drain. And usually all it takes is a few grams of fiber or starch or some other substance that is so fond of itself that it tends to clump together in groups, crowds, assemblies, mobs -- and you know what mobs like to do. Yep, they impede progress, usually by some form of violence.

In this case, the "form of violence" is me attempting to push the offending substance (which I can't actually see) further down the pipe (because there's no point in trying to suck it back up; no vacuum on earth has power over a clogged drain) with whatever tool happens to be handy: plunger, compression pump, or metal snake. Violence is never the solution, though, as is proven over and over again. Pipes just laugh at violence. Or break. Which is far worse.

Last time this happened, it took two and a half gallons of Liquid Plumber (aka sodium hydroxide) to dissolve the offending substance over the course of eight or twelve hours, because I refused to take the stupid pipes apart. Do you know how many joints are in that short section of pipe underneath the sink? In a normal sink, you can get away with two: one between the wall and the P-trap, and the other between the P-trap and the sink. But if you toss in the disposal unit, now you're looking at a minimum of five because the disposal attachment has an angled T-connector with three connectors. Ours, incidentally, has six because there's a straight section of pipe between the P-trap and the wall.

Six connection points means six potential leaking joints every time you take the thing apart. So you can understand why I hesitate to break out the crescent wrench and start twisting.

So my first step was to dump a cup or two of Drano (aka sodium hydroxide) down the sink to let it stew awhile. Fifteen minutes. Flush. (Still plugged.) Repeat. Flush. (Still plugged.) Repeat. Flush. (Still plugged.) Repeat until all my remaining [Insert Product Name Here] (aka sodium hydroxide) is gone, gone, gone.

(Still plugged.) Rats.

It's late. I'm out of [Product]. Can't do anything more tonight.

Next morning, out to the store. Purchase more [Product]. Pour down drain. Wait. Flush. Repeat. (Still plugged.) Really??!?  Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Nothing. Extreme frustration.

OK. Finally. Bit the bullet. Pull the pipes apart. Run the snake down the very short length of pipe going to the wall. Nothing. (Still plugged.) Unbelievable!

Plugged Sink: Almost ready for the Snake

Re-attach just enough pipe to create a vertical column (to add pressure) into which I can pour some more "Product" and then let sit overnight.

Plugged Sink: End of Day Two

Wake up in the morning and run to the sink. Column of "Product" is gone -- but that doesn't mean anything, because it will typically drain very, very slowly even there's a serious blockage. So fill up the column with water and ... yep, still plugged.

Now it's miracle time. Out of sheer flailure, I pass the snake through one more time, only now I jam it down as far as I can get it to go, twisting and twisting to get it past all the curves and kinks and turns and tweaks of that pipe that sits behind the wall. (Did I mention that the pipe has a sharp turn to the left just inside the wall because there's a window above the sink?) Push-twist-push-twist until it won't move any more. Pull out to see if it found anything. Hmmm... just a little bit of mushy stuff that looks like leftover rice. Really? Doesn't seem like enough to plug anything.

So. Fill up the column one more time. The water drains. Quickly. Huh? Repeat. The water drains. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. The water drains. Confusion reigns.

With the anticipation of defeat in my heart, I carefully re-assemble the pipes again. Pour water down the drain. Rats. Leaking joints. Tighten joints. Repeat. Still leaking! Re-adjust pipes, then tighten again. Finally, no leaks.

Fill the sink with water. Let drain. It drains! Repeat (because I don't believe it.) Still works. Repeat four or five times, all the while waiting for new leaks to appear beneath the sink (there is a pan underneath because I don't trust it). Nothing.

So it ... works? I still don't trust it. I will leave the pan underneath for the next few days until it is proven that no leaking is occurring.

Meanwhile, after five gallons of sodium-hydroxide-based ["Product"], we're back in business.

I hope.