Fixing the Wrong Problem

     For the sixth or seventh time, I carefully lowered the stool onto the flange, aligning the small holes in the base of the stool with the bolts protruding from the flange.  The first time I proceeded thus was August 22.  I had refined the technique quite a bit since then.  I learned to use a nut and a quarter inch bolt on the stool securing bolts.  That enables me to line up the stool before I mash the wax ring into the wrong place.

     Progress always begins with dissatisfaction.  Queen Eve found fig leaves too rough of texture so she cultivated silk worms.  That’s probably a myth, but it serves to make the point.  I was dissatisfied with the basement bathroom stool.  It was a contractor model, supposedly a water-saver, but most events required two flushes to do the job, so where was the saving?  It was not exactly self-cleaning, either.

     The upstairs water closets had American Standard chair height models that saved water, disposed thoroughly of their loads, and stayed pretty clean.  I researched models on the internet and found a suitable model that would match the upstairs facilities, available at Lowes for a decent price.  I bought.

     I installed.  The stool came with its own wax ring.  I followed the instructions and felt certain I had solved my problem.  The next morning, after my early-morning rest stop, I found, to my chagrin, a small pool of water on the bathroom floor.  Elementary detective work traced the source of the mimi-mini-Nile to the front of the stool base.  Hmmm.  Must have done something wrong with that wax ring.

     An extenuating factor was a missing floor flange.  Whoever installed the first stool mounted it directly to the floor, no floor flange.  That might be a factor, but it shouldn’t matter.  If it worked before, surely I could make it work here, I reasoned.  I bought a super thick wax ring and stool  reset number one happened.

     With the same results, a small stream of water which never appeared until after the third or fourth flush.  The third reset a day or two later involved using both wax rings to make a huge gasket.  It still leaked.

      Must be the lack of a floor flange, my next theory.  I bought an easy-fix floor flange that fit inside the existing pipe and required no gluing or chipping of cement or tile.  I did have to drill holes through tile and cement and use anchors and screws to secure the flange to the floor.  This time I carefully levelled the stool over the flange.

      With this fix, the stool didn’t flush as well as it had proved it could do.  (One of the reviews I read said the stool could flush a bowling ball.)  In order to be an easy fix, the flange choked things down too much, right where stool and flange meet.  But it didn’t matter whether it flushed well or not.  It still leaked.

      Every time I went to the wax ring section in Lowes, I eyed the non-wax rubber gaskets ballyhooed to replace the wax ring and work better without the sticky mess of the bees wax.  I succumbed to the hoo.  What would it hurt?

     Off came the stool for the fourth (? I’ve lost count) time.  Out came the screws, out came the easy-fix flange.  On went the new super-duper rubber gasket with four inch tail piece which went down far enough into the sewer pipe to be sure the leak wasn’t happening at the top of the pipe.  I was back to no floor flange again.

    Well, guess what, it leaked.  So maybe the rubber gasket was being driven off the stool by the powerful flush.  Off came the stool one more time.  I used wax (I had collected quite a pile of twice and thrice used wax) to prop up the rubber gasket.  Now it couldn’t shy away from the stool.  It still leaked.

     Back to Lowes for the correct UPC-certified floor flange.  It fitted over the three inch sewer pipe (could be connected to four inch pipe by using a coupling) and did not reduce the opening.  I had to carefully chip away floor tile and two inches of cement to make room for the flange to slide down to floor level.  I had to drill two new anchor holes.  Two of the former ones still lined up properly. 

     Now it was a standard, code-approved installation.  It still leaked.  It was beginning to occur to me that something must be wrong with the stool itself.  “Beginning” is a stretch.  I had inspected for cracks in previous installations, but I never saw anything that looked suspicious.  By now, the malfunctioning appurtenance was becoming the only possibility.

      I had tried to pinpoint the leak in previous attempts by rolling up squares of toilet paper to cigarette size and taping them on the floor in various places and even inside the stool cowling.  Two problems arose.  The squares taped to the stool cowling remained dry.  The ones taped to the floor pretty much got wet because the water spread in all directions.

     One more time I pulled the stool.  I used silicone on top of the rubber gasket and on the stool base at the right point.  I let it set overnight so the silicone could cure.  It still leaked.   

     I called on Lowes.  I really didn’t want to go through American Standard’s warranty process.  The return desk clerk looked at my receipt (this was October, the recipt date was August 22) and said I was within the 90-day period stated on the back of the sales slip.  Return the stool for a refund or replacement model.

      One last time I removed the stool.  One of the rolled-up toilet paper squares had fallen off the stool and landed in front of the “wax ring” and was still dry.  Aha!  The leak was not at the wax ring.  I began to hope.

     This time I disassembled the stool after removing it.  Lurking in the back of my mind was still the thought I had done something wrong.  (It’s the Lutheran conscience.)  What if I brought a new stool back, installed it, and it leaked?

     I hauled the stool up the steps and out into the back yard.  I propped it up on a bucket and a step stool.  While I was at Lowes, I had checked out the test plugs.  The only one that worked was thirty bucks.  My conscience didn’t feel that bad.

     A Styrofoam cup the right size worked to plug the stool outlet.  It wasn’t water tight, but it held well enough for my purpose.  I filled the bowl with water until it was dripping around the improvised plug.  Sure enough, there was a slow drip coming from the front of the stool.  Real slow. 

     I tried to look up the stool skirt to see the source of the leak.  I couldn’t get a good look.  Mirror and flashlight weren’t much help.  The drip was there pretty slow.  To simulate a flush, I grabbed a plunger.  I couldn’t really give it a good plunge due to the stool’s precarious balance on the bucket.  I had to hold the Styrofoam cup with one hand and operate the plunger with the other.  But I got enough pressure to step up the drip considerably.

       My frustration reached its end.  I cleaned and dried the stool (taking a dirty stool to Lowes would be akin to going to the emergency room in dirty underwear).  I turned it over in the bright sunlight and here is what I saw.

 

     There is a crack right where the apron meets the bowl.  It’s hard to see.  If I hadn’t already been to Lowes to check on the return, I would probably have got out the JB Weld and tried to fix the crack.  I wasn’t ready for another failure.  Into the back of the pickup went the stool, tank, seat, bolts, etc. 

      I didn’t get too many funny looks while I rolled the cart with stool parts spread out on it across the parking lot and into the return desk.  I presented my receipt and my case.  I was prepared to explain my testing to prove the stool was defective to the clerk who was not the same as the one I visited with earlier that morning.  But it wasn’t necessary.

     She asked me if I wanted refund or replacement.  I said I wanted the same product that didn’t leak.  She asked if I minded going to get the new toilet.  I said “no” and set off to find a person in the plumbing department.  A young guy got the heavy box off the shelf, put it on a cart, took it to the return desk. 

    The clerk verified the number with the young guy.  I didn’t have to rerun my credit card or anything.  She said “okay” and he said to get my vehicle to the loading zone and he would meet me there.  Which he did.  He loaded the box into the pickup for me, and off I went.

     One more time I installed a stool.  I used the silicone on the rubber gasket.  I let it dry overnight.  Still not ready for another failure.  With trepidation I hooked up the water line and flushed. 

     No water on the floor!  Three days later still no water on the floor after regular use.  I still look every time I use it.  I’m beginning to believe I fixed it at last.     I would like to say this the only time I have spent a significant amount of time fixing the wrong problem, but alas! it’s not true.  It's only the most recent example.