Brandy the Cat

I spent Father's Day weekend in Brampton at Lee-Anne's parents' place. In addition to her father, all three of her brothers are fathers, so they have a lot to celebrate. They hosted a get-together on Sunday, but on the Saturday I, as well as my mom, visited Toronto and saw my granddad.

He's in a section of his retirement community that offers more advanced care. In addition to the human residents, Brandy lives there

My mom had told me about her, but this was the first time I'd met her. Apparently she sits in the window in Granddad's room. He was never a big cat lover, but growing up, our cats always loved him. There's a joke about how they always gravitate toward the person that doesn't like them. I suppose the pattern continues.

When I'd first heard of Brandy, I was surprised that a cat was allowed to roam the residence. It seems like allergies are consistently a concern. For a place with consistent turnover of often medically fragile residents and such an alert staff, it seemed a weird setting for a cat.

I asked my oma if allergies were ever a concern and she gave a few examples of people being unable to host events at places that Brandy frequents. I mentioned that I was surprised they were allowed to have a cat at all, and she said that I'd be surprised at how many of the residents owned cats, and that Brandy's owner had passed away. I asked who was taking care of her now, and Oma speculated on a few of the people who live in the area.

This surprised me for a few reasons. Firstly, that a resident owned Brandy and not the staff. For some reason I thought she was there for some official function, like being a mouser or to improve mental health. Secondly, it didn't sound like she presently had a primary caregiver. I got the impression that someone moved to the section for higher support needs and when that happened, her cat moved with her. Since that area is so much more open, Brandy was able to roam freely to other peoples' rooms. After her owner's passing, she functionally became a street cat of the retirement home.

My granddad and Oma live in a pretty swanky place. I can't imagine the staff have just overlooked Brandy. In fact, from what my oma said, it sounds like they've changed some meeting locations for groups to accomodate Brandy's presence.

I'm not a hater. If they can have a cat, I think that's great. I love cats, and Brandy's a sweetheart. She doesn't seem to be wanting for anything. She's well fed to the point of being overweight, and Mom noted that someone had been brushing her. 

The setup just seems strange. But I've told several people about Brandy, and everyone seems to think this situation is normal. Brandy, an ownerless cat that lives in the section of a retirement home for higher support needs, living off the good graces of people in cognitive decline. 

A Person Wrapped In Sheets

Yesterday, me and Lee-Anne were coming back from a community barbecue and we walked by someone wrapped in sheets, lying with his face in a pool of viscous yellow fluid. His location seemed strategic, as it was beginning to rain and he was under a bus shelter, surrounded by bags filled presumably with his possessions. Kitchener has its share of homeless people, as I've explained in my posts about our two encampments. I generally don't like to draw attention to someone's struggles, but this guy seemed in an unusual state of disrepair. Lee-Anne asked if we should check in on him, and I agreed we should.

I asked him if he was okay. He said that he was cold and asked us to please help him. In my head, I inventoried what we were carrying to see if there was something we could give. We had leftover food from the barbecue, but no clothing or anything to help keep warm.

I asked him what his name was and he told me. I won't repeat it here. It was a common name, but in the off chance it could be identifying, I'll leave it out. I asked him if he needed to go to the emergency room. The bus shelter we were at was directly in front of a hospital. Seemed an opportune place to have a medical emergency.

He managed to say that he'd just come from there but they hadn't done much for him. He said he was thirsty and asked me to get a bottle of water from one of his bags. I took out the bottle and was going to hand it to him but he opened his mouth. So I unscrewed the cap and fed him the water by hand.

After several mouthfuls he vomited, the contents the same consistency as the fluid pooling around his head. He kept asking for help, for us not to leave him, and saying that he was cold. I told him that we didn't have anything that could warm him, and asked if he would be okay with one of us checking in at the emergency room. He agreed.

Lee-Anne went in while I stayed outside with him. When she returned, she said that they told her that he would have to either walk in or we would have to call 911. I remember this rule from when I went to the emergency room. Someone collapsed outside the door and a nurse told him he'd have to walk inside if he wanted help.

Seemed silly to call 911 directly outside the hospital but this guy was not going to be able to walk there himself, close as it was. Even with support, he seemed unable to endure it. We asked for his permission to call, and then we did. A paramedic showed up before we'd finished reporting his symptoms.

She questioned him a bit and we learned that he was suffering from withdrawal sympotms. This surprised me a bit, as I would have guessed that he was overdosing. After some persuading she was able to get him into a seated position and helped him put on a sweater. She also helped him drink some more water but he vomited it back up again. 

Another paramedic showed up and gave some background. Apparently he had been admitted to the ER but had been discharged after he became violent. They'd called the police but they never arrived, and they contacted several shelters but apparently he'd been kicked out of each of them for similar behaviour. 

Seeing the state he was in, it was difficult to imagine he'd been physically capable of violence earlier in the day, or of traveling to the emergency room in the first place. Eventually they agreed to send him to another hospital by ambulance.

That's it. That's the story. I don't really have deep insights or any kind of moral takeaway at the moment. We'll likely never know what his fate was, but I hope he doesn't get kicked out of that other hospital, because it sounded like the very last place willing to provide him care.

Occasionally it occurs to me that, living close to a hospital, we are in close proximity to a lot of human suffering and death. I remember seeing someone being wheeled out of an ambulance with paramedics applying chest compressions. Having my own First Aid training, I know that the chances of someone surviving after requiring that level of intervention are slim. Weird feeling to witness someone probably dying.

19 Days of Independent ADHD Living

When Lee-Anne was in the hospital for her intra-cranial observation for 19 days, I was left to my own devices. Between the two of us, she was in a much more uncomfortable position. Still, as someone with ADHD this was an opportunity to see if the independent living skills I'd acquired over the past few years would hold up without the presence of a partner. Results were a mixed bag.

As far as recreation goes, I wrote two main blog posts, as well as 1 recipe and 1 review. I didn't do any painting or reading though.

For health, I didn't do any strength work outs. I didn't even try. I figured I'd be challenged enough keeping track of things that it just wasn't a priority. Besides, me and Lee-Anne got into a bit of a routine together. It wouldn't be fair to her since she was confined to a hospital bed. I met my walking goal one week but not the other.

I surprised myself by doing well with dinners. Despite having a cooking blog, it wasn't originally a passion of mine. I used to put off eating until late at night, and then binge whatever would shut down the hunger pains quickest. My struggles with weight came from apathy toward food, not a love of it. Gryphood was a measure to make cooking more exploratory and interesting.

Lee-Anne's absence actually turned out to be an interesting opportunity to experiment with meals. I usually don't take too many risks when cooking for two, because if I take a chance and it doesn't pan out, I'll be making her suffer through the botched product. While I was alone, I got to do some stuff I wouldn't otherwise have tried. 

For example, I wanted to see how simple and easy I could make cream of broccoli soup without it losing its identity. I narrowed it down to only four ingredients: stock, milk, broccoli, and corn starch. It also didn't require many measurements, as it used a 1 litre milk carton and a tetra pack of stock. It tasted more like a warm green smoothie than a soup, and I wound up adding carrots, celery etc. the day after.

I also got another shot at making Philly cheesesteaks, which I'd done a subpar job with once before. For some reason, a lot of the things I wanted to experiment with were really dairy heavy.

We usually keep a weekly meal plan on a white board in the living room and I surprised myself by keeping up with it. However, while I did a decent job planning what I would eat, I didn't do as well with when. Usually we have dinner around 7:00, but while she was gone it would often take until 10:00 before I got around to it.

I was drinking too much at first, but corrected myself after a bit.

I did pretty well cleaning dishes and changing the cat litter. I didn't do either every day, but I didn't let things get too out of control either. I managed to take out the recycling and trash each week.

There were a few home projects that never seemed to get done while Lee-Anne was around, and her absence was frankly an opportunity to tackle them. I'd been meaning to season my pans since the new year and I finally did it. My cast iron stuff was easy, but I also have a weird steel wok that apparently needs to have it done as well. Because it has wooden handles, it has to be done on the stove top by rolling it around until each part of it turns dark. Very awkward and labour intensive. I'd done it once after we got it, but after rereading the instructions I realized I'd only seasoned the bottom last time. One coating took me several hours, and I was supposed to do it like three more times. I realized it would take the equivalent of a work day dedicated to only that one pan, and since it needs to be rolled around on the stove top it's not like you can ever leave it alone. So I figured it was fine with just one coat of seasoning.

There were a few decorations that we'd been wanting to put up, but Lee-Anne would overanalyze and talk us out of doing it. Sometimes it's easier to wait until she's gone and let her change things after the fact, which proved to be the case this time around.

One of the pieces was that thing we had at our wedding that everyone signed. It was sunflower themed.

The other thing I put up was a picture of Regensburg that my Great Grandfather brought from Germany

Apparently he worked for the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration in World War Two. He was Camp Director of a refugee camp, and this image depicts a place near where he stayed. It's an etching with watercolour applied over the print, done in 1940 before the town experienced any damage from bombing.

I also started our wedding album while she was gone.

As far as work goes, I forgot to set up an online meeting that I'm responsible for twice in a row. I forgot to fill out my timecards twice in a row as well. However, I actually corrected my punctuality a bit. My work starts at 8:30 for staff, but 9:00 for members.  Because there isn't much happening in that first half hour, and I think because my first position had 9:00 as the start time, it's been difficult to reprogram my brain to think I need to be at work for the earlier start time. While Lee-Anne was away, I put up a little calendar in my office and started recording the time I got into the building every day. I guess seeing the patterns in front of me had a good influence, because I have gotten a little better.

All in all, I managed to function. The place probably wasn't as tidy as usual, I forgot a few things, and I didn't get as much exercise. But I think I did a passable job of taking care of myself and I managed to take on a few initiatives that I probably wouldn't have done otherwise.