Days 4–8 Holy Asbestos!

As we finished gutting the last bedroom, my husband and I stood staring up at the lovely tiled ceiling that ran throughout the entire house. Sweat dripped down the side of my husband’s face and his arms were covered in drywall dust. I bit my lip, wanting to ask him a question, but guilt ripped into me. Finally, I spit it out.

“If we are eventually going to rip down these ceiling tiles, would it make sense to do it now while there are no walls rather than wait until down the road?”

I knew what the answer was, but since he was breaking his back trying to get all this done on a time line, and everything he’s done was for my dream, the last thing I wanted to do was to add more on his to-do list.

“Yeah.”

So, he started making calls. The house was built in the 1960’s. He had taken down one tile and put it in a bag and was trying to get someone who could test the tile for asbestos. After a full day of not getting anyone to answer their phone or call him back, he took matters into his own hands.

He went and bought himself what he refers to as a ‘body condom”. It is a suit that covered him head to toe. He went and got a respirator mask, and for three days, in the heat and humidity of our Florida summer, donned his outfit and one by one took all the ceiling tiles down and out of the house. On day 8, he spent…