How to Talk to Your Cat About COVID-19

Vlog

This post is available as a vlog. Watch on your phone, tablet, or laptop, or plug your device into the TV or (ideally) a Jumbotron.

Introduction

First it was climate change. Then it was gun violence. Now it’s an honest-to-God pandemic that has wormed its way into our communities and our psyches— leaving us stuttering, babbling, and mumbling, yet again, trying for the right words to explain this terrible thing to our cats.

Whether you consider yourself a “pet owner,” a “human guardian,” or a “cat custodian,” you may feel unsure of how much to say about COVID-19 to your furry, feckless friend. This post gives you guidance all the way through the process.

Remain calm

Though cats often seem to ignore humans entirely, they are actually quite sensitive and perceptive. They can detect our anxiety, and this affects them more than you might realize. For example, if you suddenly shout, “I CAN’T TAKE ANOTHER MINUTE IN THIS COFFIN-LIKE BAY AREA DOLLHOUSE!” you shouldn’t be surprised if little Snowflake runs under the couch to hide.

It’s also important not to let your mood become your kitty’s problem. As annoying as it is to see your darling (but shedding) little friend napping  for six hours straight on your cream-colored sofa, it’s never appropriate to yell, “How can you lounge around like this when the WHOLE WORLD IS MELTING THE FUCK DOWN?!”

Here’s an analogy. Say you’re on an airplane and, after severe turbulence, it pitches nose-down and begins falling to earth. The last thing you’d want in this situation is for your flight attendant to forget your ginger ale. Your cat is the same way. She doesn’t care how anxious you may feel about complete respiratory failure. She wants her dinner. On time. Actually, right now.

Be patient

These are difficult times for all of us, even pets. Well, most pets. Goldfish are probably oblivious, frankly. But your cat surely realizes something is up, and may act out in frustrating ways. She might sharpen her claws on your beautiful cream-colored sofa. Or maybe she is suddenly missing the litter box by six feet or more. Or she’s walking on your face at 4:00 a.m., or shooting heroin. Yes, it may be she has always done these things, but her behavior might also be a cry for help. What are you to do?

First of all, forgive her. That cream-colored sofa probably wasn’t the wisest choice to begin with, and it’s not like your children haven’t spilled tea on it anyway. Drape a colorful tapestry over the back, and your guests will think you were just going for a splash of color. And when Fluffy disrupts your hard-won sleep—waking you up fifteen minutes after you spent three hours tossing and turning and trying not to think—well, you just have to chuckle and grind your teeth some more. It’s not appropriate to berate your pet in these situations. She won’t understand.

Second, try to alleviate her anxiety. Remind her that cats can’t get COVID-19, so far as we know, and that the worst thing that could happen to her is that her entire family could die and nobody would be around to feed her. Point out that eventually somebody would come around and bust the door in, and until then, she can feast on the corpses.

Share with your cat how you deal with your own stress so that he can learn from you how to cope. You might ground yourself by connecting more with family members. Maybe you take advantage of the “new, shitty normal” by wearing pajamas 24x7. Perhaps you split two bottles of wine with your husband, even if he only has a glass or two. Or you might stare at a TV or laptop screen continuously while twirling your hair or chewing your nails and occasionally sharing the latest bad news with anyone in earshot. You may even hurl profanities at the answering machine when a Robocaller leaves a seemingly endless message. All these behaviors are signs of an impending mental breakdown, and they’re perfectly normal. Your cat will watch, and wait, and wonder when it’s mealtime.

Sometimes we count on our cats to help us feel better. Isn’t this what pets are for, after all? After a stressful workday, when your employer is in the throes of a downturn, and your stressed-out boss takes it out on you, it could be that closing the lid on your laptop and taking to the La-Z-Boy armchair with a magazine and your furry friend is the perfect way to unwind—if only Stripe would actually stay put, tuck in his paws, and purr. You know, do his fucking job. But instead he forsakes you and bails from your lap. Don’t be mad! Your cat is social-distancing!

Be honest and forthright

Provide information that is honest and tailored to your cat’s age and developmental level. While cats are quite smart, they probably won’t understand the finer points of lengthy editorials, like “How is this a novel coronavirus? It’s getting so fucking old already!” You need to keep the message simple, but don’t sugarcoat it by pretending COVID-19 isn’t a big deal. Just about any cat, and even some Republicans, naturally recognize that this virus is real and that it could infect any of us.

It’s useful to find out what your cat already knows. It’s okay to ask. You might inquire, “What are you hearing? Did you ever eat a bat? Does my skin feel oddly warm to you? Did it seem like mama had an awfully dry cough last night? Who are you working for?” Granted, you may not get many answers. Your cat may just stare at you. But if she does that thing where she closes her eyes very slowly, seeming to regard you contemptuously through slitted eyelids, she knows something. You can tell.

You can be reassuring and candid at the same time. There really are lots of reasons to be hopeful. For example, when the current trend—denial—gives way to the next one—abject panic—people will finally start wearing masks and staying away from each other. And one day there will be a vaccine, so we can turn our rage away from this invisible virus and turn it on the medical industry bureaucrats who can’t or won’t deliver the vaccine at scale. You know … the devil we know.

Help your cat feel “in control”

Give your cat specific things she can do to feel “in control.” Getting lots of sleep and washing are both great ways to stay healthy, and your cat is already doing them! Praise your cat whenever you see these behaviors. “Oh, you’re such a fooly-foo!” you might tell him. “Who’s a little fur-face? Who’s a little fluffernutter? What a galoo-foo!” All of this will reinforce your cat’s good behavior.

Speaking of behavior, actions speak louder than words. So telling your cat how to stay safe, or even encouraging him verbally when he assiduously scrubs his butthole with his tongue, is well and good, but sometimes it’s even better to just go over and bury your face in his fur and make murmuring sounds. Just don’t let him lick you.

Another way to empower your cat and give her a sense of control is to actually relent and feed her at 3 a.m. when she walks on your face, instead of banishing her to the garage. And when she walks across your desk, knocking your coffee over on your keyboard causing you to forget yourself and cuss up a blue streak during a videoconference with your boss, just let her. In times like these, your family needs to come before your career.

Be sensitive

It’s natural to forget your cat altogether when you’re focused on trying to figure out how you could possibly survive this pandemic when your teenagers wear their masks around their necks and seem congenitally incapable of washing their hands, and when their version of “six feet away” doesn’t preclude actual physical contact. In the context of your darling children suddenly being recast as oblivious, unstoppable killing machines, a pet can seem pretty insignificant. But cats are people too, and need to be reassured during these dangerous times, even if they seem like asocial predators with no ambition other than to kill, eat, and sleep.

In light of this, keep an eye out for “reassurance seeking.” This may look like a cat saying the same thing, such as “meow,” over and over again while staring up at you or threading his way around your feet, practically tripping you, as you carry a giant platter of food. This ceaseless repetition of “meow, meow, meow, meow, meow” ad infinitum might actually annoy you, but remember, little Whiskers could be suffering severe anxiety. If this continues or is pronounced, you might consider asking your cat’s veterinarian about Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, otherwise known as CBT (not to be confused with CBD—a mistake many humans make to their own great detriment).

You should also watch for signs of declining mental health. If your cat sleeps more than 18 hours a day, she might be depressed (though this can also be a symptom of being a cat). Or, if she’s listless, refusing to play with her cat toys, a ball of yarn, or even a roll of toilet paper, she might be having some kind of emotional crisis (though it may be a sign that she’s no longer a kitten).

Take care of yourself!

It’s hard to model calm behavior and “be there” for your cat if you let yourself fall apart. Ironically, one way around this is to invert the natural order and look to your cat as a role model. Does she get enough sleep? Check. Does she know when to turn off the news and put away the smartphone? Clearly. Does she practice mindfulness? Probably—it’s not clear what else could be happening inside that tiny skull. And does she do yoga? Well, yeah! Hell, cats practically invented yoga!

But don’t take it too far … remember, you’re not a cat. You may have your own way of coping. You might distract yourself with books or videos. You might stockpile toilet paper. Maybe you gorge yourself on animal flesh while you still can, while the stockyards and meatpacking plants are still operational. Maybe you binge shop online for clothes that probably won’t fit and that you may never have the opportunity to wear. Or you might relax your body and mind with a miracle elixir like Drake’s Denogginizer Double IPA. All of these are perfectly valid ways of coping, so long as you remember to also clean out the litter box from time to time.

More reading on the pandemic

• Shelter-in-Place FAQ
• E-Book Options During COVID-19 Lockdown
• Is Cycling Safe During the COVID-19 Pandemic?
• The Toilet Paper Hoarding Conundrum
• More COVID Chronicles – Baking in Place
• When Will the Pandemic End?
• What Are Hospitals Like During the Pandemic?
• Teleworking During the COVID-19 Pandemic
• Why Don’t The Dutch Wear COVID Masks?
• Travel Tips During the COVID-19 Pandemic
• COVID Wristbands

Other reading on cats

• Adopting a Kitten in the Modern Era
• Ode to Cat

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Biased Blow-By-Blow - 2020 Tour of Sweden Stage 4

Introduction

Well, it’s been a long time since I got to watch a bike race, what with the Covid-19 pandemic. Virtually the entire pro racing season has been canceled, though the Tour de France has been tentatively scheduled to start in late August. The first road race of note this year was the Slovenian National Championship, which quietly took place last weekend (as Slovenia, months ago, was the first country in Europe to declare they’ve eradicated the coronavirus). Because the Slovenian Championship lacked an international field, there was no TV coverage of the event.

But suddenly Sweden, the only European country not to have any shelter-in-place restrictions whatsoever, decided to revive their five-day Tour of Sweden stage race, formerly known as the Postgirot Open, which hasn’t been held in over 18 years. They found an eager sponsor, the French pharmaceutical company Sanofi, makers of hydroxychloroquine. (If this seems cynical, ponder for a moment the fact of Amgen, makers of EPO, sponsoring the Tour of California.) At long last, I was able to tune in this morning to watch Stage 4, the queen and penultimate stage.

(Why do I call this a “biased” blow-by-blow report? Well, I don’t have to bite my tongue when I think a rider is doped, a dope, or just being dopey. Or sneezy.)

Sanofi Tour of Sweden Stage 4 – Skövde to Huskvarna

As I join the action, Tao Geoghegan Hart (Team Ineos) has accidently rolled off the front of the peloton on the third of six categorized climbs. He doesn’t look very excited. That’s kind of the way this team rolls; sometimes the riders are so lubed they don’t know their own strength. Consider how Froome has so often accidently dropped everybody, and then, when alerted to his position, he’d kind of shrug and either solo to victory or hang back for a bit to keep up appearances. 

Based on Geoghegan Hart’s faint suntan, I’d guess he’s actually made it outside for some training this year, which of course gives him a leg up on some of his competitors (such as the Spaniards and Italians who were forbidden to ride outdoors).

It’s a long climb and the peloton isn’t doing much about this accidental attack, so I’ll take a moment to fill you in on what’s happened in this Tour of Sweden so far. The two favorites going in, at least from my perspective, were Primoz Roglic (Jumbo-Visma) and Tadej Pogacar (UAE Team Emirates), because not only do they have actual road racing miles in their legs, they finished first and second, respectively, in the Slovenian National Championship a week ago. Not to mention they’ve been ascendant in the sport anyway, with Roglic winning last year’s Vuelta a Espana and Pogacor taking three stages.

Back in the race, Geoghegan Hart has stretched out his lead. Marc Soler (Movistar Team) is giving chase but he’s not gaining significant ground. I’m not getting much info from the announcers, who are lame. Eurosport’s best commentator, the Irish champ Sean Kelly, gave up on the sport this spring with so many cancelled races, and (as described in this great article) has gone back home to Ireland to work full time on his family’s dairy farm.

So who’s not here at the Tour of Sweden? Notably, Team Ineos is missing all their heavy hitters. Geraint Thomas, Egan Bernal, and Richard Carapaz, along with six others initially slated for the race, have all been quarantined after Carapaz visited his home in Ecuador and subsequently showed Covid-19 symptoms. Following a team time trial practice, others developed fevers and the whole team had to sit this race out.

Now Miguel Angelo Lopez (aka “Superman”), of Astana Team, has attacked the peloton! Lopez is having a great Tour of Sweden, having won a stage and picked up the white point’s leader jersey.

Getting back to my discussion of who is at this race, Team Arkéa–Samsic failed to register in time and isn’t fielding a team, so their leader Nairo Quintana isn’t here. Movistar Team decided their star, Alejandro Valverde, is just too old to risk sharing a cramped peloton with so many other athletes from so many parts of Europe. Many French riders, including Thibault Pinot, Julian Alaphilippe, and Romain Bardet simply declined to participate, citing their lack of real training. Perhaps the most bizarre exclusion from the race is Tom Dumoulin, who was all set to lead Team Sunweb but was suddenly sidelined with a persistent and advanced case of dandruff.

Wow, Superman already has over a minute and a half on the GC group! Not sure how far ahead Soler is … I’m surprised he hasn’t been caught already.

Surely by now you know why Chris Froome isn’t in this race, but in case you’ve been hiding under a rock, I’ll tell you: in early May, while being interviewed by an American journalist (for this article), he was suddenly struck by lightning. The story, a puff piece about how Froome and his Sky/Ineos team never doped, ended with Froome explaining their unprecedented and uncanny success: “The sport is now a hundred times cleaner, but we climb faster than [the dopers] did at the time. The best way to explain that is that we have evolved a lot in the areas of technology, nutrition, and training. We are better as athletes.” At this moment the lightning bolt struck the cheating, lying scumbag right through the head. Oddly, the so-called journalist didn’t mention this in his article. Odder still, when mentioning Froome’s positive test for salbutamol, the journalist breezily recounted how Froome “was later cleared of doping” without mentioning what a complete travesty that was, with absolutely no explanation given for the charges being unexpectedly dropped.

And now Lopez has caught Soler, who looks pretty beat.

Sure enough, Lopez motors right on by. I think Soler has given up.

Roglic attacks! He started off this race very well, handily winning the individual time trial and taking the leader’s green jersey in the process. He faded in yesterday’s stage, though, losing enough time to Pogacar to fall to second on GC. He needs at least 30 seconds to move back into the lead, and can’t afford to lose more than 18 seconds to Lopez.

Roglic doesn’t look nearly as strong now as he had in last year’s Vuelta, and I’m reminded of how he cracked in last year’s Giro d’Italia after winning both time trials. Ah, and here it appears he’s getting caught. Wow, he’s really going backwards. The GC group is hauling ass now, seeming to have been awakened by Roglic’s attack! It’s all coming apart!

A teammate gives Roglic his wheel, but it’s no use. Roglic just cannot hang. The teammate looks over his shoulder. He’s saying something … probably encouragement.

Pogacar sits comfortably in the group. This kid is pretty amazing … he almost always looks fresh as a daisy. Huh, it looks like the pace settled back down. I think this race caught a lot of these guys off guard … there’s only so much training you can do by yourself, some of it indoors, and no races to motivate you. There aren’t very many spectators either, and nobody looks that excited. In fact, check this gal out. She doesn’t look happy at all. Or is she sneezing into her elbow like we’ve all been taught?

The GC group is growing as more riders catch back on. Sunweb takes to the front and picks up the pace. Honestly, I don’t even know whom they’re working for … without Dumoulin, I don’t even know if this team has any stage racers.

There’s an attack from the bunch! It’s Pierre LaTour (AG2R La Mondiale), attempting to bridge up to Lopez!

The racers are on the lumpy section heading toward the fourth of six summits today. As the field hits a flat stretch, Team Ineos takes to the front and starts loafing, obviously hampering the chase so Geoghegan Hart can stay off. Toward the back of this group, Geoffrey Bouchard (AG2R La Mondiale) sits up and … what’s he doing? Texting? Ah, I just got a tweet from him. “Pierre’s off the front, my work here is done lol” he’s quipped. They really shouldn’t let riders tweet during races. It’s dangerous.

As they hit the next uphill, the field starts to speed up again. Oddly, it’s Astana on the front, drilling it. What about Lopez? Did he get caught?

Farther up the road, LaTour is still looking great. I don’t think this spectator is six feet away, though. Fricking Sweden. Five times the death rate of the rest of Scandinavia (click here for details), and they’re still pretending everything is okay.

Speak of the devil: Eurosport is showing footage of Huskvarna, a town near the stage finish. Look at all these weekenders, all crowded together with not a mask among them!

See the big sign there? Google translates the second sentence as “But now we need to keep our distance.” Not a very obedient populace, eh?

On the penultimate descent, Astana continues to drill it for Superman, who I assume is in there somewhere.

Ah, there’s Lopez. As this ever-growing GC group starts the monster Berg av Kleideniden, Superman is tucked neatly into his Astana train. Geoghegan Hart still has almost two minutes but it’s a long climb. You can see Pogacar, in his green leader’s jersey, behind a teammate on the right.

Up ahead, Geoghegan Hart’s lead is starting to erode. Now we’re back looking at LaTour who is visibly struggling. The peloton, still lead by Astana, is hauling ass and starting to break up again. And whoa, what’s this?

That’s like the third Sanofi ad since I started watching. Pretty cheeky … clearly the suggestion is that this race can proceed because Plaquenil, their brand of hydroxychloroquine, is so effective against Covid-19. Totally absurd. But hey, I guess if they’re paying for the ad, who am I to protest. It couldn’t be any less effective than, say, McDonald’s.

The GC group has caught LaTour.

It’s a long slog up this Category 1 climb, the dreaded Berg av Kleideniden, rising to over 1,900 meters (6,000 feet), the highest summit of the stage. Now, one by one, the Astana train starts to falter and pretty soon there’s not a single one of them at the front. Either that or they’re being told to stand down because Lopez is hurting so bad. Superman, indeed! At this rate it’s only a matter of time before the attacks start.

Whoa, did I call it or what? Pogacar decides he’s had enough sitting around and totally attacks!

This is really pretty crazy. With Geoghegan Hart’s lead dwindling all the time, all Pogacar really needs to worry about is Roglic, who has been yo-yo’ing off the back all day … and yet Pogacar attacks, due to sheer youthful exuberance I guess. It’s tempting to assume he’s just testing the waters but I’ve never seen him do that. And sure enough, he’s taking time out of the group with every pedal stroke.

And now he’s got Geoghegan Hart! The tall Englishman grabs Pogacar’s wheel and hangs on for dear life. It's just as well because I was getting sick of typing “Geoghegan Hart” which is the keyboard equivalent of a tongue-twister.

Geoghegan Hart cannot hang. Pogacar solos over the summit of the Kleideniden and starts the final descent toward the short, Cat 3 climb to the summit finish. He’s demonstrated before that he can fly on the descents. I just hope he doesn’t hit a bump and rack his nuts!

With 1K to go to the summit, the chase group begins to splinter! Superman falters! Geoghegan Hart has been caught and now struggles to keep up! Roglic is nowhere to be seen!

Pogacar is in the final stretch, having knocked out the final Cat 3 climb like it was nothing!

Pogacar takes the stage, extending his GC lead needlessly! He’s got the Tour of Sweden in the bag!

It’s a fairly modest victory salute for somebody who has just schooled the entire peloton.

The chase group having completely exploded, a few lone riders cross the line. I don’t know who they are but it scarcely matters at this point.

Unbelievable … another ad for Sanofi.

Pogacar stands alone on the podium. The announcer is saying they're not allowing more than one rider at a time on the podium, and no podium girls or other dignitaries, but at least Pogacar doesn’t have to wear a mask.

Pogacar is being interviewed. “I wasn’t that worried about Roglic. At the start line he said he was having a bad race and wasn't used to going so hard day after day. I was mostly worried about Superman but as we went along I couldn’t figure out how he got that nickname. I feel bad for his team, they all looked stronger but were so loyal to him. Hey, wait a second ... I think I hear my mom calling me. She was worried sick about me racing here and drove all the way up here, 2,000 kilometers in her crappy little Renault, to be close by. She is so nervous, she wanted me to race in a mask! Yes, that is my mom calling. I gotta go!”

Damn, I just sat through like my fifth Sanofi ad and now they just keep showing helicopter footage of the Kleideniden, high above the little lakeside town of Huskvarna. I’m waiting to see the leaderboard for the stage and the new GC.

What the hell? Suddenly the footage vanishes and I’m plunged into some other program altogether, some weird sporting event already well underway. What the hell is it?

What are all those people carrying? It’s bizarre. And they’re really not maintaining any social distance to speak of. Oh, I get it—those are maps. I’ve stumbled onto an orienteering event. These are apparently quite popular in Sweden. But I can’t handle the sight of all those people clustered together … I’m out of here. By the way, tomorrow’s final stage of the Tour of Sweden is a flat circuit race favoring the sprinters, so the final GC will clearly go to Pogacar. Nothing more to see, folks … move along, move along.

Postscript

I guess I should point out, since a few people have apparently not realized it, that this entire report is pure fiction. There has not been a Tour of Sweden since 2002.

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What Are Hospitals Like During the Covid-19 Pandemic?

Introduction

Today’s topic: what’s it like to visit an urgent care clinic right now, during the pandemic? What are things like at a hospital? And what’s it like to get a Covid-19 test? Unfortunately, I’m now in a position to report on all three.

I’m unable to type right now so I did something different: I recorded a vlog without having a script, and then transcribed the audio track using my phone. Please excuse whatever transcription errors I missed here.

Here’s the vlog version if you prefer that:

And now, with no further ado, the Q&A.

Why would anybody want to go near a hospital right now?

In my case, I had a pretty bad accident. I put off treatment for a couple days until it became clear that I needed it. Before I started making appointments I asked a buddy of mine who’s an MD, “Is this a really bad time to go to the hospital?” (Obviously he does this every day for work, and then goes home to his family.) He said, “You know, hospitals are really well-run: they’re kept very clean and they have protocols in place. It’s probably safer than a grocery store.” I agreed, and my wife made me an appointment at an urgent care clinic in Oakland.

Is it hard to get an appointment?

Of course this depends where you are, but in the Bay Area the hospitals etc. are really not doing much, as so many people avoiding these places. Getting an appointment was really easy.

Is the traffic lighter getting there, and is the parking easy?

Yes! Our drive to Oakland was done in record time. I don’t know about parking because my wife dropped me off—they aren’t letting visitors inside, you have to leave your patients at the curb. When we went to San Francisco for the second appointment (more on this later) it was even weirder because the Bay Bridge, which is normally, any time of the day, totally clogged up, was just smooth sailing. It’s kind of weird to see a city like San Francisco completely empty. I mean, normally there are horns honking, cars everywhere, people flagging taxis … in a more suburban area like Albany, where I live, it’s not that different from normal—you get more people walking but that’s about it. To see a major city seemingly abandoned like that is pretty eerie.

Is there a rigorous Covid-19 screening protocol before I can enter the building?

The first place I went to, I was able to go through the lobby and up the elevator on my own though they had a big thing of hand sanitizer as soon as you hit the lobby. At the entrance to the clinic on the second floor there was a guy with a table and he took my temperature and made me use hand sanitizer so he could make sure I’d done it, and he made sure I wasn’t obviously symptomatic before allowing me to proceed.

Will the person doing the screening make corny jokes to try to put me at ease?

Well, that’s going to vary but in my case the guy did. After taking my temperature he said, “Okay, 97.3 on your FM dial!” I wonder if he makes that joke with everyone. Actually though, it was pretty useful because if he said something like, “The New Alt: 105.3” or “107.7: The Bone” then I’d know I had a high fever, probably had Covid-19, and would be sent packing.

Do I bring my own mask or will they provide them?

I had heard they were going to give me my own mask but it’s kind of a Catch-22: until they hand you a mask you have to be wearing one. But after it’s been in the hospital I don’t really want the mask anymore, so I wore my skuzziest, dirtiest mask. At the urgent care Center in Oakland the guy had me switch it out and got me one of those cool rectangular blue ones that hooks behind your ears. I kind of wish I’d kept it but I pitched it with my old one. At the second place, the hospital, they were offering masks but I totally forgot to switch, so again I was wearing like my skuzziest mask, the one I’d dropped in the dirt, and wore it the whole time so I must have looked like some sort of derelict.

What social distancing measures will the doctors and nurses take? What kind of PPE?

Most of the time there was only one person in the room with me. Briefly there were two nurses in there but that was all right. The risk of infection, as I read recently here, depends on three things: your proximity; whether indoors or outdoors; and, how much time you’re in that proximity. If you’re closer than 6 feet from somebody, outside, on a trail, for like one second, you’re not going to give that guy Covid. So when I pass someone ten feet away on some trail and I’m not wearing a mask, and he looks over and scowls like I just sacked his ancestral village, I get a little testy. Two nurses in the room with me for two minutes at the same time, everybody wearing a mask … I’m not worried about it.

As far as PPE, the doctor wore a Plexiglas face shield, kind of like what a what a riot cop would wear but not quite as burley. It reminded me of the sneeze guard on a salad bar. So between that, and surgical gloves, and a mask, the doctor was well protected.

It’s actually kind of funny because my hand is pretty bandaged up and the doctor needed to check out my wounds, so she was trying to take Band-Aids off while wearing rubber gloves and she just couldn’t get anywhere. I was like here, let me help you out. How often do you get to help a doctor like that?

What’s the closest you had to get to anybody?

Obviously the doctor was right in there, dabbing with this very cool goop called MediHoney, which has some kind enzymes in it that kind of eat up the bacteria that might be growing the cuts. Kind of like putting maggots in your wound except smaller. So she was kind of close, but I not for very long. The most uncomfortable part was when I went across the hall to radiology. The X-ray tech had to position me with the backdrop and everything, and I say uncomfortable not because I thought he was going to give me Covid-19 but because he was asking me to put my bad arm over my head and all these other horrible things. That took a while too, but it was a giant room and he’d frequently scurry behind the control console to not get radiated, obviously.

How come every single member of the medical profession (except for the doctors) has tattoos now?

I don’t know why, but they all did, like, to a person, and one of the nurses had like this really cool tat on her forearm that looked like a face but it was like really well done. It was kind of distracting because I kind of wanted to say, “Wait, can you hold still for a moment, because I want to peer into the eyes of this person staring out from your arm.” But of course I didn’t want to waste her time or anything. Maybe this is just a value-add, you know … giving you something interesting to look at during your treatment.

Do you feel like you’re taking medical resources away from Covid-19 patients or people injured during protests?

Short answer: no. Again, there’s nobody in there, no one is scheduling elective surgeries right now. It’s just starting to get a little closer to normal but there were more staff than patients by a huge ratio. It was totally dead in there, just going through the empty hallways, like a ghost town. It’s almost like when you’re trying to support your small business so they don’t go under ... I’m giving this hospital some business. (Not that I would have chosen to, honestly.)

Do you think it’s in good taste to use terms like “dead” and “ghost town” under the circumstances?

Aw, lighten up!

Is the service really quick now, since you’re practically the only patient in there?

Oddly, no. I thought this X-ray thing was going to be pretty quick but I was there for hours. It was like usual: you’re seen by the nurses, then they leave, then the doctor comes in, leaves, comes back, then they’re ready for you down at X-ray, then you wait for those results to get sent to the doctor, then the shift changes and whatever and you get a new doctor, so I was sitting around for quite a while. I’m not sure why that is … maybe they’d sent too many of their staff  home.

Do they still give you a ridiculous orders like taking your shirt off well in advance of the doctor showing up so you have to sit there in an over-air-conditioned room for like 45 minutes shivering with no shirt on for no good reason?

Yes.

Is there any consequence whatsoever in completely ignoring the instruction to remove your shirt well in advance of the doctor actually showing up?

None whatsoever … I sat there with my shirt on. I’d planned ahead and wore a shirt with snaps down the front so when the doctor showed up, I popped down all the snaps in a row and whipped the shirt off in a jiffy. It’s important for patients to advocate for themselves.

Did everybody you talked to in both medical facilities ask you if you smoke or if you have ever smoked?

Answer is yes: all of them did. I got this question constantly, just as I did last time I was in the hospital for a broken femur.

Why do they ask this?

I’m glad you asked because I’ve posed this question too. The answer is, smokers just don’t heal very well from this kind of thing. Smoking doesn’t just wreck your lungs and your respiratory system—it stresses your entire body and puts it on the back foot no matter what it’s trying to recover from.  So don’t smoke!

Is it hard to schedule a surgery right now?

                                                                      

Hopefully you’ve never had to schedule a surgery but normally it’s a bit of a hassle, this little dance you do over several phone calls with the surgery scheduler whose full-time job is figuring out this puzzle with surgeon’s time so tight. But this was a piece of cake. The orthopedist recommended surgery, I agreed (I’m not going to second-guess the person who went to medical school) and he’s like, all right well, how about Tuesday?

Do they make you get a Covid-19 test before you can have an operation?

Yes, they actually will operate on you in a part of the hospital where there’s nobody with Covid-19, to limit any chance of exposure. So you have to get a test.

Is it hard to get an appointment for a Covid-19 test for an upcoming surgery?

Nope! Again, a piece of cake. They put in the order on Thursday and I got an appointment for Friday. So if you’re looking to get a Covid-19 test and you’re not getting any luck, just go get in a bad accident and injure yourself, and Bob’s your uncle!

Do you have to go to the same tent where all the symptomatic people are to get your test?

That’s a great question, because obviously you don’t want to be exposing yourself to the virus. Fortunately, they have a whole tent setup for asymptomatic people, which is pretty cool of them.

Do they really have a drive-thru Covid-19 test, and will they really serve you microbrews on tap there?

Two-part answer: yes, they really do have a drive-thru Covid-19 test, but no, they don’t serve microbrews on tap, at least not here. Maybe in Texas they’re doing that, or maybe in Oregon, but not in California.

That question about microbrews ... is that kind of a sore subject?

Yeah, it actually is and I wish you wouldn’t bring it up. Right now, in the days before the surgery, I can’t have Advil (as it thins the blood) so I have to take Tylenol, and I can’t have any alcohol with that because I care about my liver. So even though a lot of people are advising me to treat my symptoms with beer, I can’t, and I had to I had to give up a 32-ounce growler of Fieldwork IPA because it was going to go bad in my fridge. So that hurt, I think that hurt even more than my injury.

Don’t worry, the beer found a good home. The pal I gave it to later Beck’sted it from his patio.

Do they allow you to bring a pet in your car for the drive-thru Covid-19 test?

This is actually on my paperwork for the test: they specifically forbid you to bring a pet. If you have a pet in your car, they will turn you away, which kind of makes sense, right? Because if Rover is in the in the car with you and someone takes like this q-tip that’s like a foot long and sticks it so far up your nose you’re reminded of a sword swallower, Rover’s probably going to take action. Rover’s like, “Okay, that person’s killing my master—this is my finest hour, I’m going to save the day!”

Did you want to bring your pet to the Covid-19 test?

I have a cat. Needless to say a cat has never protected its owner so there’s no risk there. I probably could have filed the paperwork to have the cat registered as an emotional support animal, but only if they never met this cat. She’s useless. I’ve been laid up since Saturday and this cat will not get on my lap, will not even come around. It’s like I’m damaged goods, the cat is avoiding me like the plague. So no, I was not even tempted to bring her, not even to punish her, because she can’t change her stripes.

What was it like getting the Covid-19 test?

I was in the backseat of the car (I can’t drive right now) and somehow I’d been led to believe the person was going to get into the car but I think I must have been a little bit of a little bit confused. Instead the tester had me roll down the window and then she leaned in and first swabbed all over my mouth so needless to say I was not wearing a mask for this but obviously the tester was wearing a face mask, shield, the whole thing. Then she said, “I’m going to go up your nose.” And she sticks this thing up in there, gets it like an inch up my left nostril, and she’s like, “That one’s a little tight, I’m going to go through the other nostril.” I’m thinking great, what if this other one’s tight too … then what?

But the other nostril was apparently okay so she said, “This is going to last for 10 seconds,” and I’m really glad she gave me the countdown because it was weird, I mean it was like way in there, and I don’t know if you’ve ever had this happen where you’re eating pasta or rice so fast that you get a piece that goes way up in there so it’s stuck like halfway between your nose and your mouth and it just sits in there and kind of hurts, like when you hit a raw nerve with a drill when having a cavity filled without Novocain (which is how you should do it because it doesn’t hurt that bad) so it’s annoying and you’re thinking like “Oh god, I got pasta up my nose!” and then you get a Kleenex and you just blow your nose like super hard and then you feel the noodle bit flying out of your nose, when you look down you’re like, “There it is!” and it is just such a relief. So if you’ve ever had that happen, that’s kind of like what it’s like getting this Covid-19 test. They put the swab so far in there and kind of wiggle around and I’m kind of going “Uuuugh! uuuugh!” (but silently) and she’s counting, “All right, I got 5 more seconds” so I’m thinking “I can handle this!” and then it’s over. So, all told, we got there and sat around for a couple minutes while they did whatever and then from the time like the swab came out till I was done was like two minutes and then we hit the road.

How quickly did you get back the test results?

It was about 15 hours—pretty quick! They called me the next morning and let me know.

Do you have Covid-19?

No, I don’t. At least, I’ve tested negative.

Did they give you the antibody test so you can see if you’ve ever had Covid-19?

I asked about this and they said the antibody test gives so many false negatives (or was it false positives?), its accuracy rate is about 50%, so it’s just completely useless and they wouldn’t bother getting me that one.

If you test positive for Covid-19 do they still go ahead with the surgery?

I thought the answer to this would be no, they’d have to reschedule, but actually, given the severity of my injury, and since it’s not considered elective, they would move forward with the surgery even if I have Covid-19. They just would send me to a different facility where they have a “negative pressure” operating room where they can basically make it safer. I was kind of surprised about this and asked my doctor friend, who said, “Yeah, they should just operate, like why should they be so worried? They’ve got their PPE and this is the environment they work in; what’s the big deal?” I was kind of surprised … I was thinking it would be the patient at risk in that case. But I guess if you’re not showing any symptoms, it’s full steam ahead.

Would now be a good time to finally get a surgery for that chronic dandruff?

You know, as disgusting as my dandruff is—and it’s really bad, I’ll admit, it’s just a disgrace—I think I’ll wait until the pandemic is over before I go in for that scalp transplant.

More reading on the pandemic

• Shelter-in-Place FAQ
• E-Book Options During COVID-19 Lockdown
• Is Cycling Safe During the COVID-19 Pandemic?
• The Toilet Paper Hoarding Conundrum
• More COVID Chronicles – Baking in Place
• When Will the Pandemic End?
• How to Talk to Your Cat About COVID-19
• Teleworking During the COVID-19 Pandemic
• Why Don’t The Dutch Wear COVID Masks?
• Travel Tips During the COVID-19 Pandemic
• COVID Wristbands

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