Here's the whole story of how and why the bathtub fell on Pat's head, for
those who are interested:

I had to remove the bathtub so I could insulate under it. There's a big hole
in the floor under the tub that was initially created to enable pipe repair
and later used to accommodate the drain pipe that I broke off the drain line
the first time I removed the tub. This hole was letting cold air into the
house via the bathroom and kitchen cupboards.

Since I replaced all the under-house copper pipes this past summer with CPVC
pipes on the interior walls and ceiling, my intention was to remove the
remains of the plumbing under the tub and replace it with something to stop
the cold coming in.

The first time I had removed the tub, I forgot that it's attached to a drain
pipe going to a septic tank, and just yanked it up and the attachment busted
off, leaving a gaping hole in the drain pipe and a few inches of
jagged-edged plastic pipe still attached to the metal drain coming out of
the bottom of the tub.

I had patched the hole in the drain pipe and employed a chain of discarded
radiator hoses from an auto repair shop to fashion a new drain pipe for the
tub, with one hose clamped around the remainder of the plastic pipe and the
last one fed into a 10' length of grey PVC pipe to carry the bathwater out
into the back yard.

Since then my practice has been to leave the tub filled after each bath and
re-use the water by dipping it out with a bucket to flush the commode, so as
not to overflood the yard.

And so, yesterday, after I had filled the space under the tub up with carpet
underlayment foam (rescued from the dumpster of a carpet dealer) I saw that
I had broken off the remaining plastic in the drain pipe. I had the tub
propped up on a broom handle and was inspecting the damage when something
shifted and the steel tub came crashing down, hitting my head in the
process.

Now I have to find some kind of hose that will fit snugly inside the steel
drain pipe instead of clamping around the plastic that broke off.

Meanwhile, the tub is standing on that broomstick, and I've lost count of
how many times Tommy and Billy have run under the tub to see what's going
on. I try to keep them out of the bathroom but they often manage to slip in
there with me.

Tommy knows something's wrong by the way I scream "GET OUT!!!!" every time
he goes under the tub. He hasn't held it against me; last night as soon as I
laid down he was on my chest purring his little heart out and gently
touching my face with a paw every few minutes. Billy snuggled against my
waist also.

The weirdest thing about this whole affair has been the effect it's had on,
of all things, my digestive system. That bathtub knocked the crap out of me.
Literally.

Normally, each morning I fill up the porcelain throne two or three times;
yesterday morning was no exception. Prior to *fixing* the tub, all I had
eaten was a small bowl of raisin bran flakes... And yet, right after the
head incident (which happened around 4PM) I repeated the morning's
performance, and then again around 8 PM the same thing. The rest of the day
all I consumed was a few cups of water and a cup of broth, and yet, this
morning, once again two flushes were required.

So, I guess you could say, I needed to have the crap knocked outta me!

Thanks for all the concern you folks have expressed. I will try to remember
to keep posting for the next few days as time allows, just so you know I
haven't keeled over or failed to wake up or something.