The day has come for us to pack up and leave our little home here in Washington, D.C. Our little family is moving to neighboring Maryland on Sunday, which means the next day and a half will be busy packing, taking our cat to her new home (she can’t come with us, so she’s going to Richmond, VA), emptying out the fridge, cleaning the house. . . you know, all the usual stress and hassle that comes with moving. But we know it will be worth it. After all, who goes through all of that for nothing?
“Upgrading?” you ask. “Had enough of city living?” you think. “Another rung up the ladder of the American dream?” you suspect.
But nope, actually, none of these is the cause of our move. You see, ours is only a temporary, forced relocation, courtesy of the District government. (Brace yourself- yet another ode to DC governmental bureaucracy coming. . .) Here’s the long version:
Back in April, Simona’s (“capillary”) blood test revealed an elevated lead level. Our doctor referred us to a lab for a second, more accurate (“veinous”) blood test. Sure enough, she had lead poisoning (defined as a reading of 10 or higher- hers was 20). Our doctor advised us to modify her diet, wash her hands frequently, and take other preventive steps to minimize her exposure. He also referred us to a non-profit organization that helps families deal with lead poisoning.
We spent the next several weeks meeting with them, determining the likely source of lead exposure, and taking corrective measures. These included spending countless hours doing home repair work (you may remember pictures of our windows. . .) while friends graciously baby-sat Simona. We also cleaned the entire house top-to-bottom (including wet-mopping the ceilings and walls, washing each toy, wiping down every single book, etc.). It was a LOT of work, costing us many hours of labor and several hundred dollars of supplies. We completed the work in late May, confident that we had eliminated any risk to Simona’s health.
At Simona’s next check-up, just after her first birthday, her blood tested at the same level as before. Our doctor assured us that this was to be expected, as it can take several months to come down again. We remained confident that we had minimized her lead exposure.
About a week or two after her second test, we received a phone call from the DC Department of Health. They were calling to “make us aware” of Simona’s elevated lead level and to offer their assistance. Sensing that we were about to be ensnared in a quagmire of District government “services,” Caleb tried to deflect their attention. We explained that we had taken care of the problem, that we were monitoring her closely, and that we would be retesting her frequently. Unfortunately, refusing their “help” would mean being referred to Child and Family Services, which certainly did not interest us. So, grudgingly, we allowed the DOH to come into our home and repeat the same tests the non-profit had performed previously.
As expected, there were still “hot” spots that evidenced lead present in our home. Not surprising, since every house built before 1978 likely has lead-based paint in it. So, in spite of the fact that Simona’s third veinous lead test came back at seven, we were required to allow a tester from the DC Department of the Environment to use X-ray equipment to test the indoors and outdoors for lead. We begged them to exempt us from this test, since any remaining lead clearly was not significant enough to impact Simona’s or our health, but it was to no avail. In late September, the tester came for a full inspection.
We heard nothing from the government for several months. Caleb began making radiator covers, as the paint on our radiators is in poor condition. It was the only spot about which we as parents were still concerned, so Caleb took it upon himself to build covers that would prevent Simona from touching the radiators. (You’ll see pictures in the photo update.)
Shortly before the holidays, however, the wheels of DC bureaucracy began turning once again. We received a “Notice of Violation” from the DC Department of Consumer and Regulatory Affairs, citing us for having lead in our home. The notice informed us that we had fourteen days to abate the lead or face thousands of dollars in fines and jail time. Clearly, the best interests of our child were no longer at stake, as imprisoning us would most likely NOT benefit her physical or mental health.
We were able to obtain an extension until January 26, 2008. In the meantime, Simona’s 18-month check-up allowed us to obtain another physician referral for a veinous lead test. Her level was a six, and, as her second consecutive test under 10, allowed the DOH to close her file. Since, however, the presence of lead in our home is now “known” to us and the government, we are required by law to abate it.
Which brings us to this “move.” In order for the lead abatement process to be safe, we (including the cat) are required to move out while work is being performed. We will not be allowed back into the house until it is cleared by a certified contractor distinct from the one who performed the work. We were able to receive another extension, and our contractor begins work on Monday morning. He hopes to complete the work by next Friday.
In spite of the frustration that accompanies having to spend thousands of dollars correcting a mistake that was made years before I was even born, we have been quite blessed during this time. We are fortunate to have friends who will let us stay with them for the week, another friend who is willing to cat-sit for the week, and the financial resources to make the requisite repairs within the allotted time frame. We’ll let you know how it all turns out once we’ve moved back in!
