Post-Covid diary

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I can summarize the past couple of months in one terrible haiku:

I'm really sick of my job at the vaccination post. But before we go there, there are a few updates that need mentioning. 

One, I've long recovered from Covid. Which means I can joke about it now.

Two, I'm fully vaccinated.

And three: I've adopted two cats! 

The decision to do so was borne of a deep dark sense of mid-pandemic loneliness some months ago. With Delta cases on the rise, my mom didn't feel it was safe for me to come home on the weekends anymore, what with me working in a vaccination post with plenty of sick people. She was right. But I found myself with nothing to do, nothing to look forward to, nothing to strive for. Going home to my family was the thing I looked forward to each week. But with that off the table, every day I would come home from a bleak workday into an empty apartment and try to distract myself from the loneliness by endlessly scrolling through social media. I felt a constant need to flood my brain with sweet, sweet dopamine. 

For context, I now spend 100% of my working hours at one of Butuan City's vaccination posts, where I perform many random doctorly duties from 8 to 5 - only a small minority of which actually require any medical expertise. 

Even though I'm a primary care doctor, I'm not used to having a boring desk job. Being a Doctor to the Barrio used to entail so much activity each day. But now, as a *sigh* vaccination doctor, my days consist of just sitting in one spot and interviewing people, asking the same questions over and over. 

But, in the first vaccination post I was assigned to, there was one bright spot in my dreary days, and it came in the form of this cat.

Her name is Marga, and she loves humans. Especially humans who share their food with her. She visited me every day at my usual spot at the vaccination post, begging for ear scratchies and head pats. And she had this funny angry look whenever you stopped. (I'm speaking in the past tense here not because she died, but because I was transferred to a different vaccination post. She is still very much alive.)

She brought such sunshine into my dark days and I wanted so badly to adopt her. But then I read up about community cats and found that many of them can live healthy and happy lives without ever being adopted (provided that they are vaccinated and fixed). And Marga (the campus staff there named her that) seemed to be so well-loved and cared for by the janitors and security guards at the vaccination post, that I decided it was best that she remained there. 

But my time with her renewed a dormant love for cats. And I realized I didn't have to look too far for company. Outside my apartment was this healthy little colony of cats, all howling and spitting in heat, begging for food. They'd actually been there the whole time I lived here, but I never thought much of them until I met Marga.

I started feeding them every night. Soon, they warmed up to my presence. I solicited names from my family, and ended up with excellent choices: Cookie, Tim Riddle, Delta Variant, and Siomai. 

I wanted to do right by these cats and get them fixed and vaccinated. So I borrowed a big carrier from my landlady, set some food inside, and waited for my first victims. 

Patients Tim (left) and Cookie (right) now admitted in the Pre-operative Anesthesia and Recovery Unit. Started on NPO.

Fast forward to after the operation, I stupidly released Tim Riddle back into the wild so I could focus on caring for Cookie, who'd had a bigger operation. Unsurprisingly, Tim Riddle ended up with an infected surgical site wound because of my idiotic decision. I would see him outside with fresh streaks of blood coming from his ball sack. He would leave these little grotesquely adorable heart-shaped red imprints everywhere he sat. It was kind of funny but I also felt so bad. So as soon as Cookie was back to 100%, I discharged her, grabbed Tim, thrust him into a cone of shame, and Betadine'd the hell out of his (former) balls. I swore to do better by him.

Day 3 post-discharge. Noted a 2x2x2 cm blurry surgical site infection, lateral to his former right ball. Plus erythematous nasal area secondary to always licking his former balls.  

Patient re-admitted into PARU. Cefalexin started at 1 mkd as antibiotic. Tolfenol started q8 for pain relief. Applied one (1) cone of shame. 

In the same period of time as Tim's operation, my nurse Yocyoc found this abandoned kitten and remembered that I'd been wanting to adopt a cat.  

My first instinct was to say yes. But then I decided to refuse, saying I'd already "adopted" the four cats outside my apartment. He got the second message only when he'd arrived at my apartment, kitten in tow.

My first pictures with Flea! Bet you can guess why I named him that.

So that's the gist of how I ended up with the pair of cats I have now, Tim and Flea. After seeing how well the two bonded, I decided to keep Tim around for good. And it's been really fun. Tim acts like Flea's older brother and tires him out for me, so that when I get home from work they're both pretty chill. (Well, chiller than if I'd had only one cat.)

Afternoon sunbathing for Tim.

Bed bugs.

Bed bugs 2

Pics from that time that Tim escaped and got super dirty and I had to give him a bath for the first time and it was just hell for the both of us.

I'm really lucky to have these two boys in my life. Their presence gives me a reason to keep working my boring job, a reason to read more, to dream more, to imagine a future with them and Rap and his dog around. 

Huh, would you look at that. I started writing this post intending this to be a long cynical rant about the futility of work and hopelessness of life, but instead it became an optimistic reflection about my cats and how they give me purpose. 

Guess my cat lady transformation is 900% complete.