Shelter in Place

This kind of seems pointless to write down, since everyone is going through the same thing, but since doing so is enjoyable for the author if for no one else, here goes. Odd to be outdoors and know that every person you see is thinking about the same thing, generally speaking. Kind of like when Michael Jackson died!

I went off to Rainbow Sunday afternoon, the day Hammett’s cat sitter had come over to administer his medication, after concluding I couldn’t sit at home staring at Hammett hour after hour. Even if I might enjoy that, he wouldn’t. Rainbow was crowded, though I have seen it just as crowded once or twice in the past. Certain things had been cleaned out, such as every loaf of bread except for two bricklike loaves probably from Germany that likely were snatched 10 seconds after I saw them. Many people’s carts were piled extremely high. For myself, I bought two extra bottles of olive oil, extra beans, and six rolls of (bamboo) toilet paper where I would normally have bought three.

Hand sanitizer was back, but you had to go to a counter to get it, and there was a limit, and it was not any recognizable brand. It looked like some enterprising operation had made a batch of glop, poured it into containers, and hand labeled it. Was there rubbing alcohol? Gone. Aloe vera gel? Gone. Glycerin? Yes! I have some strong rubbing alcohol at home, and bought some glycerin at Rainbow, so that should hold me for a while after my four tiny containers of hand sanitizer are gone.

Swathes of the bulk sections were covered in brown paper, and there were gloves available for customers to wear while accessing the bulk items that were still available. There were plenty of beans, and walnuts were available. Alas, no olives, which I eat a lot of. I could have bought them in cans or jars, but decided just to go without. The produce section was fully stocked, except not one single centimeter of fresh ginger, which I also eat a lot of.

Customers were approaching the cash registers one at a time, with others asked to queue starting 10 or so feet away, with three feet of space left between customers; giant overhead signs gave these instructions. When two people came and stood right behind me, I said, “Can you please follow those instructions?” and pointed to the signs. When I was able to move up, they hung back, opening up some space.

Back at home, I washed and chopped veggies, and was able to give Hammett his 9 p.m. medication without too much difficulty. The hissing that scared me in the morning I now recognized as just a noise—also, when the cat is making this noise, its mouth is open, as Hammett’s cat sitter had pointed out in the morning. An open mouth is a good place to insert medication (with a pill shooter, not with one's fingers). And I concluded that what I thought was moaning in pain might well have been growling intended to indicate very strong disapproval.

However, clearly he was not having fun, and he had not eaten anything, so I decided to take him in for euthanasia first thing Monday morning. I dragged myself out of bed on Monday, got dressed, put him in his carrier—and then changed my mind. I don’t want his last day to be lousy, but when he’s not actually receiving medication, he seems content enough.

Merely and cruelly prolonging death, or hours that are of decent quality? Hard to say.

I went back to bed for a while, and when I got up, I talked to my father on the phone, and started cooking a pot of beans. I called Hammett’s vet to report that he had eaten no more than a tablespoon of food in five days, if that. His vet said that if Hammett’s quality of life seems good enough today, then fine. He doesn’t think Hammett is in pain and thinks there is no point in giving pain medication. He also thinks there is no point in giving an appetite stimulant to a creature whose body no longer wants food. I agree. I wish cats could talk, and that all vets thought the same thing. There was pretty much direct disagreement between the two animal hospitals.

In the early afternoon, I saw a text message from ALERTSF saying that everyone in San Francisco was ordered to stay home except for essential activities, starting March 17. I looked at the related document, which had a big long title explaining what had been ordered. Below that, the order was summarized by three words in parentheses: Shelter in Place. I called Lisa at her home near Seattle and we agreed that that has an ominous ring. We had a good chat. I am very grateful for friends and sanghas available via phone, text, email.