Solitary Cat: (Un)happy Feet

Adventures of a solitary cat: (Un) Happy Feet

Feb 13, '08 1:08 AM for everyone

 A vague thought in my mind after Kaiyen and I saw each other on her recent trip to the Philippines was that living alone is.an adventure. Be it doing household chores or just plain living from day to day - it still is really just another adventure...with good and/or bad results.

What got me to thinking about writing about the mundane and not so mundane things which I have to put up with while living by myself is simply because I was unprepared for the probability that Kaiyen would manage to get a foot inside my living quarters here in Manila. As usual, since I was not expecting visitors at all, I could only describe the current appearance of my unit as cozily chaotic That is obviously a euphemism. Luckily, Kaiyen, Steve and Glenn managed to keep a deadpan expression on their faces when confronted by the piles of various things tottering dangerously all around my living area.

As for me, I was trying to be animated in a devious bid to distract them from the larger than life debris (luckily, I had a couple of minutes to throw some of them out before they arrived).

There are a lot of pros and cons to being by myself. But I lean heavily towards the pros. My personality and early upbringing is suited to this kind of lifestyle. Freedom and independence mean a lot to me and I cannot even begin to completely express how happy I was to find out that after living for so many years with my family, and as an only child of a sometimes protective, conservative father and an adventurous, free-spirited mother - being just by myself for the first time in Manila (1995) and a couple of times afterwards was something I took to like fish takes to water. I cooked, cleaned and looked after myself as if I was doing it my whole life. Some friends who knew how easy life for me was at home in Cebu City were quite surprised.

It has not been a bed of roses. One of the worst experiences I had involved physical pain and afterward even some not-so-copious tears (I do not like indulging on tears at all since they make my nose red and I have sniffles for the rest of the week, plus I have a tendency to develop tonsilitis after a good cry).

February of last year, I was due for a physical exam (PE) preparatory to joining my current company. I had only taken a half-day off due to the hectic schedule and duties to fulfill to the soon-to-be-ex-company before I resigned, as well as other things I had to prepare for the new company.Juggling all this meant that I had a very tight schedule to adhere to. I arrived at the clinic early in the morning as I was hoping to get ahead in line and finish everything instead of coming back another time.

Stepping out of the cab when I went for my PE had me putting my right foot onto a hidden hole beside a tree root in a sidewalk here in Makati. The cab had parked next to the curb and who would have expected that the tree on that area had some hidden danger for an unsuspecting, frazzled cat like me?

I abruptly sprawled down on the pavement like a drunken horse, my foot at an awkward angle and stuck inside the hole. After some maneuvering and discreet wincing, I stood up and patted my rump free of dust. Maybe the embarrassment I was feeling swept away the pain but I managed to saunter almost normally through the doors and into the elevator out of the prying and, I felt, somewhat amused eyes of other people who had seen me in an undignified heap on the normally busy sidewalk.

I went around the clinic being passed from one doctor, nurse and attendant to another  and I finished before 12 noon deadline I imposed on myself. Ironically, my injured foot wasn't part of the physical checkup at all. My right foot was now throbbing a bit since I had to zigzag from one end of the clinic to another with my various bottles of what-nots and exams.  I decided right there and then to use the HMO card of my company for the last time since I never used it much.

Makati Medical and the clinic for Caritas I could hobble to since they were about two blocks away and I did with some gracious slip and slide. I managed to grab an unappetizing sandwich and put some bottled water inside my stomach to get me fortified for the travails I had to face the rest of the day.

You have to get the Letter of Authorization (LOA) so that you could go to the doctor for a checkup and so I did a mixture of hopping and skipping to the Caritas clinic from the other clinic in good time. I was quite anxious since it was near lunch break, it was a safe bet the elevators would all be crowded, and there was going to be a long queue for the LOA.

This part was not so bad, since with some luck and good timing, I managed to cross to Makati Med from Caritas and again queued for the assigned doctor to examine me, after his lunch break of course.  He was astounded when he saw my poor right foot since by that time aside from the obvious swelling,  the big dark violet and bluish bruise could now be easily seen on the rightmost side of said appendage, almost stretching from my toes to the back near my heel.

He said I must have a high tolerance of pain, which was not really a surprise to me, since my dentist said the same thing during my root canals. Normally - sez the good ole doc, most people would be unable to walk around with that kind of swelling and bruising without any help from other people or from a cane at least, and not on the same day an injury like that would happen.

Well, what could I do?

It has been hours since I wrenched the foot, and I did not bring my umbrella to use as a makeshift cane since I did not foresee this little accident, and calling on an uncle of mine in Makati Med would still have me going through the same process..and it could take more minutes of hopping around, which I really didn't want to do. I was tired of being an urban bunny-wabbit by that time even if it sounded cute.

The next problem I could see was that he would want my foot to be x-rayed. Oh yes, right on schedule he did!  Ah, the advantages of thinking ahead...though it didn't lessen the pain. I tried to tell him it was more of muscle and probably torn ligaments or something and that there was no need for an x-ray but he wanted to make sure so there was nothing I could do except accede.  At the back of my mind I knew that if I waited for the next day, I could not be sure of being able to walk anymore so better to finish all that could be done that day while I was still partially mobile. Drat, this would be the perfect time for a tall, dark and handsome stranger to bump into me! But where in blazes was he?

This time, as I unsteadily and slowly limped back from Makati Med to Caritas Clinic (I felt it was for the nth time, but maybe it was just the second time). My HMO needed me to get the LOA from them before I could do it in Makati Med. Drat. I could feel shooting pains on my affected foot. I gritted my teeth as I went through the whole process again with the walking up the front stairs to the building, the guards giving visitors their id cards, the waiting for the elevator, the crowd, the queue for the processing, the explanations, and the LOA.

Thankfully, the X-ray room was just in the same building although on a different floor.  At least I did not have to hop like a kangaroo to another building since the pain worsened when I moved around - just from floor to floor. Small mercies were given, but I could not help but whimper softly when the attendant arranged my injured foot for the x-ray as it had to be flattened. This time I was just biting my lip and she must have seen my face since she gently patted me on the back and said it would be over soon. At last, a friendly, sympathetic face!

After this ordeal, I knew with bitter certainty that I just could not rest yet. I could not wait anymore for the x-ray results but I still would have to go to a drugstore to buy a bandage to wrap my foot in, or some athletes' gear which would support the foot so I could at least walk on it since I still had things to do afterwards. Life still went on even after this fiasco! 

The god of taxis was listening to my prayer and I was able to get one without waiting for too long on the side street. I would have screamed like a banshee if I had to do battle with other waiting passengers on that hectic afternoon. The taxi driver deposited me on Mercury Drug in Legaspi St,  which is the same street I live on  (albeit on the other end) and I again began the painful journey, but this time at least I knew I was more than halfway to the finish line.

I was only able to get the bandage since they did not have the foot support sock I wanted. I didn't buy any painkillers at all since I thought I would be too woozy and I still had work to do, even if it was going to be from home. This time, I suddenly felt hotness at the back of my eyes. I felt as if I would become teary-eyed and bawl out in less than 2 minutes if I did not get hold of myself. My stoicism faded for an instant.

It was a culmination of the pain, tiredness, irritation, some self-pity and hunger (what else? it was past 4 pm already) and my stomach was still functioning normally by noisily complaining about the lack of sustenance.  I think that walk towards a sporting goods store in Greenbelt 1 was the most painful and slowest one I had taken in the whole of my life.

Maybe the pain was aggravated by the cold air inside the mall. I had already wrapped the newly bought bandage tightly around my foot but this time, even with that, the pain was a steady throb, regardless if I moved or not. I felt like I was walking on a knife stuck in the middle of my aggrieved foot.

I berated myself silently. I could not afford to cry in the middle of Greenbelt and leaning against the wall would not do anything for me except make the whole ordeal drawn out. I said to myself - they say that giving birth is the most painful of all, so by Jove, this pain is nothing! - go in there and buy the darn thing on the double and no shilly-shallying about it!

After all, I still had to get home and that meant walking from Mercury Drug to my building. This time, I wished I had a genie who could at least give me a walking cane. I was tempted to buy an umbrella just to have some support, but that would mean more walking for me to Watson's or some other store.

Rivulets of sweat beading my temples, I walked..or at least tried to. In the end, I did not care anymore if I looked like a drunkard (people were avoiding me since I was swaying a little bit sometimes and I was keeping to the walls). I found the sporting goods store and bought the support cover/sock for my foot.  I even managed to interview the store clerk on the different models and items they had which could suit my purpose.  

Afterward, I breathed a palpable sigh of relief. Even if I had to go to work tomorrow, I was optimistic it would not be as bad as today was! Well, barring the event that my foot would swell to a medium-sized cantaloupe of course.

So, I knew the drill and this time I ponderously began the long, slow and painful process of walking home alone. I could not help but think that if this had happened to me in Cebu, it would be so much easier since I could ask for atis leaves and get some "mananambal" (healer)  to massage the throbbing foot. 

I am not saying that I do not like the idea of my parents fussing over me even if my mom sometimes does - although they are pretty used to my scrapes and do not really howl about it. What irked me was the thought of having no access to the kind of good ole remedy I would have been given were I at home.

All these and other thoughts occupied my mind as I dragged my unhappy feet back to my abode. I stopped once in a while to get my breath back and to look as if I was enjoying the various scenes I passed by.

Upon arrival at the building I lived in, some of the guards exclaimed sympathetically and gave me some tips on what to do  -  like rolling my foot on a bottle to exercise it and make the blood flow. The OIC of the Security, who watches out for me, offered to help me to a "hilot" should I decide I wanted to have my feet massaged. Unfortunately, I didn't know any here in Manila.

I managed to smile wanly and thank them all graciously but said I must really go up and rest. Finally I went through my door, rooted around in my kitchen cupboard and rolled my right foot on an empty iced tea bottle. After a while, I ate some biscuits and stared at my injured foot for some time.  I felt like conversing with it if only to berate it for the unexpected trouble and pain I went through on its behalf, but by then the events of the day had caught up with me.

I promptly went to bed and propped my foot up on the footboard.

And I woke up the next day, and went to work.

Since I was walking almost normally,with nary a wince or frown,  did not use a cane, and with only a bandaged foot to show for the whole adventure, everything seemed almost normal at work that day, as if nothing untoward happened. I got asked if I was okay since I was practically absent the other day but I was not keen on retelling the painful tale so I just shrugged and said well, I am walking wounded but I am alive!

At the end of the week, I called home and told my parents what had happened.

By that time, they could not fuss anymore since I said I was on the way to recovery, there was no need for a "hilot" anymore, and I had an appointment with the doctor the next week following the results of the x-ray, the swelling had all but disappeared and the color of the bruise had now changed a bit to an ugly yellowish-green from the colourful eggplant it used to be and best of all, I survived hobbling by myself on that day and had a new company to look forward to working with. Just another day in the life of a solitary cat.

Postscript:

A friend saw my foot after I unwound the covers a few days after the accident..and he told me it was probably good that I walked on that day instead of babying my injured foot. It got it to heal faster and allowed the blood circulation to be forced to the injured area. I don't know how true that is, but at this time, I like to think that suffering was not for nothing. Life still throws you some sugarcane along with the lemons. *wink* 

Location: home in Makati City

Mood:  jaunty :-)

Music: guitar gods in YM