I have always loved animals and small children, and I often have the ability to attract and charm them.
Most people I know are “dog people,” and if my life worked out differently I’m sure I would be too. And if I had a larger yard and a future that involved working from home or short enough hours, I would get a dog. I haven’t had a dog in almost 30 years.
I tend to have a good rapport with cats. We are both moody, aloof creatures, quick to bare our claws but dedicated and affectionate when you win our trust.
And my life recently has been full of cats.
I guess part of me is looking for that companionship I had with Zoot, the kitten I rescued from my brother’s household after Christmas, two months after I got married. 1999.
She was a character from the get-go. She protected me with fierce devotion, and even extended her guardianship to my daughter. She hated to see the now-teenager cry.
She knew when I needed her. She licked my tears and sat by my side. And she purred with such enthusiasm. A sound I loved to hear.
I taught her to sit, give her paw, lick my cheek and jump onto her stool. And, as a consequence, whenever she wanted what you had, she would walk up to you, sit down, and hand you a paw.
In that way, she trained me. I taught her the trick. She performed it to demonstrate her desire.
That is so “cat.”
A dog loves you because it trusts you, it needs a leader, and it wants a pack.
A cat loves you if you earn it.
And when a cat choses you as its person, especially when it has a choice of people, it feels like an honor.
Of our 9-ish month-old teen cats, Misty and Fog, Fog prefers me to my teen daughter. His brother, Misty, is my daughter’s baby. Both are the offspring of a feral in the neighborhood— Misty was the runt, and Fog was the smartest who lasted the longest on his own.
Since I got home from the hospital, Fog has spent as much time as he can by my side.
And it warms my heart.
Fog and I
And perhaps this bond— this return on investment— is what endears me to cats.
The teenager and I are fostering a batch of feral kittens for FURR, Feline Urban Rescue and Rehab. They need socialization before they can find forever homes and they are too young and friendly (4 months) to be candidates for Trap, Neuter, and Return/release.
Today marks two weeks since our Greek Pride entered our home— we named the kittens after Greek Gods: Apollo, Artemis, Hades, Hermes and Zeus.
Week one was rather hectic because they are passing around an eye infection and sneezing, and while trying to medicate them I got bit and required a 4-day, 3-night hospital stay.
And upon discharge, the kittens and I were all taking amoxicillin.
Cat bites— and in my case, one tooth from one 3-pound kitten punctured my finger and forced bacteria into my tendon sheath (I think that is what the doctor said)— have a 50% chance of infection, even if they are your pets and have been a part of your household for years, versus a dog bite which stands at 5-10%.
Luckily cats don’t usually bite. I was poking one in the eye and restraining its claws when it bit me.
I was applying eye cream.
With all the antibiotics and eye cream I’ve put on this crew— with the teenager’s help—trust building has been a back and forth process.
Here are some photos from this morning’s breakfast:
I uploaded a lot of YouTube videos today, including a real appearance of Hades, the black cat. This is the whole playlist: Greek Pride YouTube playlist.
It didn’t start that way as it started with all five FURR kittens from the Greek Pride coming to eat at the same time!!!
Starting with the black cat and moving clockwise: Hades, Apollo (you can’t see his head), Zeus, Hermes (not quite at the bowl) and Artemis
That was super exciting as the exclamation points denote.
I indulged in the self-care that usually helps, but instead I feel worse. Went for a walk. Still in a bad mood. But Sobaka followed me home and refused to leave my side.
So I indulged in stress eating, and that didn’t help.
My horoscope didn’t help as several different astrology sites, including my favorite astrology app Co-Star, warned me things wouldn’t be easy.
Of course, there has to be a reference to Fire/Mars. A friend I recently alienated is a Fire sign and oh so Mars.
So I tried retail therapy— and this was a totally stupid move because:
I don’t have any income right now and my savings will only cover two months living expenses.
I paused my Ipsy subscription yet I ordered cosmetics.
I not only ordered cosmetics but I ordered Goth cosmetics so I’m probably not going to be able to pull off the look.
But in my defense, I ordered $60 worth of cosmetics, but found a 20% off discount code, and paid $5 shipping for a total of about $55. And I qualified for a $5 American Express statement credit for supporting small business.
I sent the teenager this photo to select a red lipstick for herself
That merely made me feel guilty.
And, as my last effort to revive my spirits, I walked down to Darnell’s house for a business meeting— both for Thrive Public Relations and for Aspire to Autonomy.
I brought the teenager along to meet The Household Dog.
The energy of working with Darnell, Amber and Melanie (all members of the Aspire team) revived my energy. Darnell even invited me to stay for a fish sandwich but the teenager needed me to come home and med the kittens of our pride.
Then, she left for her dad’s and I came upstairs to share dinner with my cockatoo, Nala. She was super bratty and bitey so I put her on the floor. I was losing my temper.
And she walked to the budgie cage. Climbed it. Pulled out the newspaper on the bottom of the cage…
And pooped!
I’m about to continue on with my evening, but I had to give the animals credit for making me smile.
The pandemic. Unemployment. And a host of social issues that start with our federal government and cascade down to our neighborhoods.
It sounds like I have a bowling alley above my kitchen, and the teenager’s bedroom smells like an animal shelter— both due to the five kittens we are fostering on behalf of Feline Urban Rescue and Rehab. (See their web site here.)
Our Artemis might be listed for adoption soon.
Artemis, of the Greek Pride
One of my peers working with FURR posted to Facebook this morning about some of the new additions to the FURR family— including two adult, declawed cats left behind when their owners moved.
It always irks me when people desert their pets when they move, and it’s bad enough when they take their pets to the animal shelter, but to just leave cats to fend for themselves… well, that is a not-nice human being.
And to find out these cats were declawed tells me the owners invested in these animals at some point probably to protect their furniture annoys me even more.
Declawing, in my opinion, is a cruel surgery. And to do that to your cat and then not even bother to take it with you when you move… I can’t even fathom!
But then I’m the one that not only took in five kittens to help get them ready for homes, but keeps working to socialize the one that bit me and sent to to the hospital for a lovely 4-day, 3-night spa vacation.
I even made sure the kitten that bit me got her next dose of medicine before I went to the ER.
Speaking of which, my family doctor is very happy with the care I received and as of 10 a.m. this morning, the infamous cat bite looks like this:
Rant over.
If you bring a pet into your home or feed a stray, be ready for the responsibility of that animal’s life.
The latest in the saga of our foster kittens, the Greek Pride
So last night we received a new tube of antibiotic eye cream and some amoxicillin for the kittens.
Some of them were coughing and poor Apollo was coughing hard. And his eye was swollen.
Tonight the teenager and I went to feed and med everyone and Apollo’s eye wouldn’t even open. Then he sneezed and got a nose bleed. I never saw a kitten with a nosebleed before.
Apollo — a day or two ago
Apollo today — with a nose blood
Apollo going for meds
Apollo calmly letting me wash his face
Apollo relaxing in the teen’s arms
Apollo chilling at my feet
We were amazed at how peacefully he (we think he—our record at gendering these kittens is subpar at best) allowed us to clean his eyes and nose and feed him antibiotics.
Well, if you know our Greek Pride kittens from Feline Urban Rescue and Rehab, you know that our flagship kitten, the ringleader, the lover… Artemis… went in to be fixed last night so we could get her onto the web site for adoption.
Surprise #1: Artemis is a male. The teenager reminded me that I thought I saw a penis on that cat, or more accurately that I thought I saw the angle of hole for a penis to come out.
Regardless, Artemis is adorable.
Artemis Artemis
Surprise #2: Artemis has what I called a “cloudy eye.” The vet said it’s a birth defect that can’t be treated. The retina and the iris are attached. It looks like a cataract.
Surprise #3: The vet had several emergencies pop up— apparently some dogs were fighting—so little Artemis didn’t get home until 1 a.m.
On the way home, we met deer in the middle of the road in two separate places and my daughter and I were trying to imagine telling the insurance company that I wrecked the car bringing the cat home from the vet at 1-something in the morning. But we did not hit any deer.
The teenager thought it might be best to sequester Artemis from his siblings until morning. The teen is already camped out on my bedroom floor to capitalize on my air conditioner so why not have Artemis join us?
By 4 a.m. he wouldn’t stop crying. He missed his siblings. So, I suppose our next job is to get him used to being without them. Perhaps it is time to let him explore the house.
Surprise #4: Apollo and Hermes have a cough. Apollo’s eye is still infected. That’s why they didn’t get neutered last night. The vet gave them antibiotics— amoxycillin. One of the drugs I was recently on. I suppose that makes sense as we all have the same infection.
And finally not a surprise… Hades will show her face more but she will not be grabbed, scruffed or cornered. Hopefully we can win her over or she’ll be someone’s barn cat.
Second week of Band Camp for the teenager and somehow I not only volunteered to drive her and the marching baritone to the high school but I also conned my good friend Nan, my crazy blind compatriot, into breakfast before our regular work session.
So I got up at 7:10 a.m., after the teenager did all the work with the menagerie, slapped on some clothes, took my last antibiotic and headed out the door by 7:40 a.m.
The routine with Nan is simple, yet deliciously complex, I pick her up and we drive to a shady spot in the parking lot of her apartment building to peruse coupons and loyalty deals on the various apps.
Now, Nan loves chai. We both love food, the worse for our health, the better. Okay perhaps that is a joke. Maybe. It’s free coffee Monday at Dunkin. And we have coupons for $2 off a breakfast combo at Wendy’s.
I plot a plan.
I really want to try the chicken biscuit at Wendy’s. Nan and I know we love the seasoned breakfast potatoes at Wendy’s.
So, our first stop was Wendy’s. We ordered a chicken biscuit with honey butter combo, making the potatoes a medium (which honestly was too many potatoes even for the two of us) and an unsweetened iced tea. The bill was $3.70. I had $3 cash and Nan had the 70 cents.
Now, I know, that’s only breakfast for 1 person. We then headed to Dunkin for my free medium iced coffee and to see if they still have chai— you see they took it off the menu.
We got the iced tea in case Dunkin really didn’t have chai.
I used the Dunkin mobile app to order the 2 for $3 sausage-egg-and-cheese wraps because Nan likes them. They are easy to eat in the car. And then I could get my free coffee. So that was $3.18. We saved the last egg wrap for the teenager.
Then at the speaker of the drove-thru we asked if they still had the chai, and they did. We ordered a medium hot chai and a cup with ice so I could ice it for Nan. That cost $3.79, as they had to charge us for the second cup.
They total for all the food was about $11 and we had breakfast for three people.
I loved the chicken biscuit with honey butter.
Phase One of our morning complete. Nan and I returned to my house to submit some essays and strategize future creative endeavors.
And then our friend Joan joins us. Neither one of us has seen Joan in a decade. Joan is another wickedly smart and multi-talented woman, dabbling and exploring the so many ways to express the beauty of this world: short stories, photography and music.
Joan, Nan and I all met as members of the Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group when the teenager was still “the baby.”
A lot of my good friends came from that group.
Angel, Nala, Misty
And Joan also brought the sweetest, ripest smelling melon I have held in my arms in months. Did she notice how much fresh fruit cup I ate in the hospital?
The teenager came home for lunch break (from band camp), Joan departed and we crated our three male fosters for neutering tonight. Except Zeus looks like a girl now.
Apollo
Apollo and Hermes both still have infected eyes and coughs so we were told to bring Artemis instead since she was ready for a forever home.
I went into the teenager’s room and Hermes had escaped his crate!
I let Apollo out, and cleaned cat boxes while on hold with Capital One Auto Financing to finish my application to refinance the last 40 months of my auto loan and drop $50/month from my payment without extending the life of the loan. I owe $7,690 and some odd cents.
With my auto loan approved, I slipped sweet little Artemis into the crate. Remember if she charms you, you can apply to adopt her through Feline Urban Rescue and Rehab.
On the way to Artemis’ rendezvous point, I received a phone call from Capital Blue Cross, my medical insurer. This was my second medical phone call of the day as the hand specialist overseeing my case called me to request a follow-up even though my hospital discharge instructions said I only needed to see my family physician at Medical Associates of Bethlehem.
I have that appointment scheduled for Wednesday, and now the hand specialist for the following Monday. On the phone was my case manager from the insurance company. She sounded pleased that I was healing well and on top of everything. She will call again next Tuesday.
Upon delivering Artemis and retrieving the teenager, we came home and I finally had Brussel sprouts. When I was admitted to the hospital last week I had missed them by a couple hours as part of the Monday lunch special.
I left my home at 6:15ish a.m. on Monday. I was in the ER within walking distance of my home by around 6:30, blood drawn around 7 a.m. and admitted shortly thereafter. I was transferred to another hospital, arriving at 3 pm, and I haven’t left my 9th floor room every since.
It is 9:30 am on Thursday.
I had a cat bite. One tooth. Punctured my finger. 3 pound kitten.
The almost instantaneous cellulitis was scary.
The fact that it got infected is not unexpected—most people don’t realize that 50% of cat bites get infected versus 5 to 10% of dog bites.
This whole adventure taught me a lot about animals, emergency medicine and hospitals.
My favorite nurse Michelle just announced I am being discharged as soon as she can fill out the paperwork. They cultured my blood— that was those bottles I posted the other day—and nothing grew!
So now that these have come back clean, I can head home. My neighbor, Jan, little dog Sobaka’s mom, is on her way.
I have set up my follow up appointment with my primary care physician, who will be very glad to see my blood pressure has reached normal levels.
I can’t even remember what I wanted to write in this because I’m so excited to go home.
I drink a lot of water and also urinate a lot. If the average person urinates 2000 ml a day, I probably hit almost 3000 ml.
I heard a “rapid response team” code 3 times while in the hospital, once each night around 8 pm. Last night, it was in a room a few doors from mine. Seeing the red cart fly by and people streaming from every direction, including the corridor I could see from my window. It was sobering.
I always feel like I’ve ordered half the hospital menu and when the food comes, I’m always shocked at how little food is on the tray.
My blood pressure was consistently about 117/75.
Being in the hospital for 3.5 days allowed me to follow the routines and “get to know” the staff and the other patients. In this time of Coronavirus, I couldn’t leave my room without mask and what not and really where would I go?
I saw the nurses deal with several difficult situations.
I watched the patients walking the corridors for exercise, in their gowns and with their IV poles.
I loved watching shift change, and when the residents and interns gathered for rounds.
I spoke with the teenager early this morning and asked for some pet updates throughout the day and this is what I can tell you:
Zeus and Artemis
Zeus and Artemis are allowing the teenager closer. Hermes doesn’t do more than a token flee when the teenager administers his meds.
Misty
Misty has taken to sleeping in my purse, which is balanced on a stool.
Good news: Ortho, the department supervising my wound care, has released me to go home.
The teenager brought me a cute top for discharge.
Bad news: My attending physician will not release me until I have 72 hours of normal blood draws just to ensure that there is no infection lingering in my system.
When I got to the ER on Monday morning, my blood work drawn at 7 am was normal, my blood work drawn here 24 hours later was also normal. So, and the attending physician specifically said this— If they draw my blood tomorrow at 7 am and it is also normal, I can go home.
This explains why I unexpectedly had another IV bag of antibiotics. Last night I slept well enough to dream and my brain transformed the chime from the IV pump in the room neighboring mine to Diana Ross’ “I’m coming out.” I dreamt I was dancing in a disco.
Upon hearing the news that my discharge would be delayed, I’ll be honest… I cried. Not in front of the doctor or my favorite nurse but I did cry.
Then I called “the meal hotline” and told them I was stress eating dinner tonight. I ordered a garden salad, cheeseburger with lettuce, tomato and ranch dressing, broccoli, tator tots and a fruit cup.
Speaking of food, I tried the pancakes for breakfast with turkey sausage (that had a bite) and the chicken salad on rye for lunch. I promised the teenager I would try the sugar cookies.
Pancakes and turkey sausage
A second cup of coffee
Chicken salad on rye and sugar cookies
Good news: The pancakes tasted as good as a diner. I was craving honeydew melon and it was so delicious. And the chicken salad also hit the spot.
Bad news: The breakfast was too small for me— if I do that again I am going to have to get scrambled eggs as that was not enough food for me and I was physically shaking by lunch.
Nala
Now that my meals are situated, I FaceTimed my cockatoo. That always cheers me up. I don’t have any clean clothes, except for a pair of jeans, so I asked Gayle to bring me a t-shirt and some dental floss.
She said yes and offered to stop and get me Dunkin so I placed an order. First I got her an iced tea and then I ordered munchkins. I checked out and realized I forgot my order. So I placed a second order.
Apparently that Dunkin’ closes at 2 and they were no longer accepting mobile orders— even though I had placed one one minute earlier.
And they were out of munchkins. So we got doughnuts in the munchkin flavors.
When Gayle left, it felt so good to wash, floss and put on the closest thing I had to an outfit.
My daughter brought extra dry erase markers so we could have fun with the nurses and my care team. Yes, as the a patient with cellulitis from a kitten bite I drew paw prints all over my board.
Today was my second day in the hospital at St. Luke’s Bethlehem/Fountain Hill and also the day that Tropical Storm Isaias wreaked havoc in the Lehigh Valley.
This is the only unplanned hospital stay I have ever had and will also be the longest. My other other experience in the hospital was giving birth to my daughter.
Breakfast 8.4.2020
Lunch 8.4.2020
Dinner 8.3.2020
Hospital Food
There are only two parts of this experience that I have disliked: IVs, though I have learned to ignore them, and collecting my urine so everyone can monitor my fluids.
Everyone on staff has been kind, and most downright enjoyable and intelligent. But Nurse Michelle has been my favorite.
Michelle finally arranged all my IV tubes into a double Dutch arrangement so they don’t have to keep swapping them out on my arm. She labeled everything meticulously. Attention to detail is the perfect trait for a nurse.
Michelle’s labels
PJ has a bandage & IV too
The hospital has lovely old architecture and picturesque views.
Cloudy after storm
Sunshine after Isaias
A room with a view
I started betadine soaks today. I’m tickled that such basic medicine still works well. I also feel like I’m hanging out with Marge from the Palmolive commercials.
Angel Ackerman 