A bit of drama
Jul. 19th, 2008 08:34 amI hadn't realized that it's been almost 3 weeks since I last updated. How time flies - not that there was anything special that made it pass so quickly, but when days resemble each other a lot, time seems to pass even more quickly than with lots of excitement.
I've known for about 10 days that I'm not going to leave Ankara for Vilnius this autumn, but that's not the drama bit. I'm not disappointed, because I hadn't my heart set on going away. It would have been nice, but I'm happy to stay here.
After a very promising beginning, writing has again come to a standstill - that's still not the drama bit - and I can't find out why. Maybe it's time to move to original writing, or maybe the time is just not right. The first few pages of the crossover fic are sitting on the hard drive, however, and who knows, the mood and the muse might strike again.
Dear![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mollyssister, I'm so sorry to have missed out on your lovely offer to send me a postcard from Portus! That was really stupid of me, I ought to have had a look at my LJ, even without updating.
And now to the drama bit. It involves kittens, cars and a hefty amount of angst on my part.
The Van cat we've been feeding for quite some time turned up after a week of absence with 3 kittens. They all looked more or less like Maggie, the kitten Gabriele and I almost rescued. There was much rejoicing and cooing, and the poor cat was so hungry we had to feed her 3 times a day - hardly a surprise, since the little ones are about 10 weeks old and still part-time sucklings.
On Thursday (i.e. 17 July) Ms Van and the remaining 2 kittens (one had obviously died in the meantime) were sighted under - *gasp!!* - one of the cars parked in the Embassy's courtyard.
Later we found out that they'd got there through the open windows of the now-empty janitor's flat.
Anyway, there they were, and while Mama Van simply and intelligently went to hide under one of the dense shrubs every time a human approached, the two small beasties jumped onto the tyres and from there climbed to destinations unknown we later identified as the motor and the exhaust pipe.
Around 4 p.m., i.e. 30 minutes before the Embassy was due to close and we all to leave, Gabriele and I saw the feline family under the First Secretary's car. So Gabriele called him and told him about the situation, asking him to be super-cautious, maybe to look under and into the car before he started it and drove home.
One minute later he was out in the courtyard, marching towards the car like Napoleon invading Russia. We both asked him to stay away for the moment - who knows, Van and family might have decided the courtyard after all, and the problem would have been solved.
Of course he didn't listen to us, with the eminently predictable result of Mama Van hissing and spitting at him from behind the shrub and the babies going to hide in his car.
So I asked him to kindly open the bonnet, in order to spot where they'd gone. Instead he started the car. I think people could hear Gabriele's and my outraged scream all over Ankara. That was obviously too much for him, and he killed the engine and opened the bonnet. He couldn't operate the kind of clutch that completely opens it and went away, saying that he had more important things to do.
I called over our driver and asked him to open the bonnet, which he did, and lo and behold, there was a small kitten doing mountaineering in the motor.
That second, Mr Stupid Bastard First Secretary shot out of the building again, running and shouting at us to leave his car alone (it's a very old rust-bucket, by the way) and made to close the bonnet.
Enter Stupid Me. I reflexively grabbed the kitten, which wasn't too pleased. It struggled and screamed and... It bit me. Twice. Anyway, I kept holding it and put it out into the garden.
One down, one to go, its whereabouts still unknown. Could have been hidden somewhere in the motor. What does Mr. Fucking Disgusting Bastard do? He closes te bonnet, starts the car and drives a few metres. Then he got out of the car, looked around and under it and stated that the kitten obviously hadn't been in there, because "You'd see that now, wouldn't you?"
I don't know how I managed not to hit him, but it was a very, very close thing.
I'd just closed my mouth and was able to speak again, when he said, 'And now, Susanne, there's something more important."
I showed him my dirty, bleeding hand and told him that I wanted to go and clean it.
What did he say? 'No, that has to wait now. There's something more important now, bla, bla.....'
The somewhat dense dialogue about the 'important matter' (ha!) finished, I went to clean the hand with water and soap, and then Gabriele and I managed to extricate the second kitten from Doris's car, this time without touching it, put it back into the garden and chase Mama Van back through the janitor's flat and back with her babies where she belonged.
Then I gave very clear instructions to the janitor (who is going to move into the flat in a few weeks) concerning opening the windows only after he's looked for cats.
Physically and emotionally exhausted, Gabriele and I left the Embassy and went back to our respective homes.
Then, shock did of course set in. First and foremost it was total and utter shock and disgust about the First Secretary's behaviour. I suppose I don't have to elaborate.
And after that came the realization that I'd just been bitten by a stray cat, that my last tetanus vaccination had been in 1995, and that I wasn't vaccinated against rabies. May I say that I passed a very, very miserable Thursday evening, especially because I read up on rabies; the descriptions didn't make me feel much better. Anyway, I was sure that for both tetanus and rabies, PEP shots were both possible and successful, and the available material proved me right.
So I went to have both shots yesterday. Tetanus wasn't a problem at the private hospital I always go to, but the rabies shot can only be dispensed by one public hospital in Ankara - hardly surprising, because these things must be duly recorded. At the private hospital, there are some members of staff who speak English, but to go to a public hospital I needed one of our local staff to accompany me. Aladdin was kind enough to go with me, and we were done after only two hours, which is something of a national record.
Apart from the PEP shot, the doctor also prescribed a strong antibiotic, because the bitten finger didn't look too good.
I'm not sure how I survived the rest of the day at the office, because I was dead tired, headachey and slightly feverish, but survive I did. I'm feeling much better today, but still very tired (the kind which makes you feel as if your whole body was made of lead), and the antibiotic is doing strange things to my intestines.
Anyway, feeling like a heap of lead jelly is nothing, absolutely nothing against what I felt on Thursday evening. It's over now, except for two more rabies shots next Friday and then 2 weeks after that. And except for some emotional scarring, because in spite of my venerable age, I just can't get my head around the fact that behaviour like the First Secretary's is possible. Needless to mention that when he saw me yesterday, knowing that I'd been to the hospital, he didn't even ask how I was. But that was to be expected I guess.
End of drama.
All of you who went to Portus, I envied you a bit - then again, there's always a next time. I hope you all returned safely to your respective homes (haven't caught up with the friends page yet). Have a nice weekend, everybody!
I've known for about 10 days that I'm not going to leave Ankara for Vilnius this autumn, but that's not the drama bit. I'm not disappointed, because I hadn't my heart set on going away. It would have been nice, but I'm happy to stay here.
After a very promising beginning, writing has again come to a standstill - that's still not the drama bit - and I can't find out why. Maybe it's time to move to original writing, or maybe the time is just not right. The first few pages of the crossover fic are sitting on the hard drive, however, and who knows, the mood and the muse might strike again.
Dear
mollyssister, I'm so sorry to have missed out on your lovely offer to send me a postcard from Portus! That was really stupid of me, I ought to have had a look at my LJ, even without updating.And now to the drama bit. It involves kittens, cars and a hefty amount of angst on my part.
The Van cat we've been feeding for quite some time turned up after a week of absence with 3 kittens. They all looked more or less like Maggie, the kitten Gabriele and I almost rescued. There was much rejoicing and cooing, and the poor cat was so hungry we had to feed her 3 times a day - hardly a surprise, since the little ones are about 10 weeks old and still part-time sucklings.
On Thursday (i.e. 17 July) Ms Van and the remaining 2 kittens (one had obviously died in the meantime) were sighted under - *gasp!!* - one of the cars parked in the Embassy's courtyard.
Later we found out that they'd got there through the open windows of the now-empty janitor's flat.
Anyway, there they were, and while Mama Van simply and intelligently went to hide under one of the dense shrubs every time a human approached, the two small beasties jumped onto the tyres and from there climbed to destinations unknown we later identified as the motor and the exhaust pipe.
Around 4 p.m., i.e. 30 minutes before the Embassy was due to close and we all to leave, Gabriele and I saw the feline family under the First Secretary's car. So Gabriele called him and told him about the situation, asking him to be super-cautious, maybe to look under and into the car before he started it and drove home.
One minute later he was out in the courtyard, marching towards the car like Napoleon invading Russia. We both asked him to stay away for the moment - who knows, Van and family might have decided the courtyard after all, and the problem would have been solved.
Of course he didn't listen to us, with the eminently predictable result of Mama Van hissing and spitting at him from behind the shrub and the babies going to hide in his car.
So I asked him to kindly open the bonnet, in order to spot where they'd gone. Instead he started the car. I think people could hear Gabriele's and my outraged scream all over Ankara. That was obviously too much for him, and he killed the engine and opened the bonnet. He couldn't operate the kind of clutch that completely opens it and went away, saying that he had more important things to do.
I called over our driver and asked him to open the bonnet, which he did, and lo and behold, there was a small kitten doing mountaineering in the motor.
That second, Mr Stupid Bastard First Secretary shot out of the building again, running and shouting at us to leave his car alone (it's a very old rust-bucket, by the way) and made to close the bonnet.
Enter Stupid Me. I reflexively grabbed the kitten, which wasn't too pleased. It struggled and screamed and... It bit me. Twice. Anyway, I kept holding it and put it out into the garden.
One down, one to go, its whereabouts still unknown. Could have been hidden somewhere in the motor. What does Mr. Fucking Disgusting Bastard do? He closes te bonnet, starts the car and drives a few metres. Then he got out of the car, looked around and under it and stated that the kitten obviously hadn't been in there, because "You'd see that now, wouldn't you?"
I don't know how I managed not to hit him, but it was a very, very close thing.
I'd just closed my mouth and was able to speak again, when he said, 'And now, Susanne, there's something more important."
I showed him my dirty, bleeding hand and told him that I wanted to go and clean it.
What did he say? 'No, that has to wait now. There's something more important now, bla, bla.....'
The somewhat dense dialogue about the 'important matter' (ha!) finished, I went to clean the hand with water and soap, and then Gabriele and I managed to extricate the second kitten from Doris's car, this time without touching it, put it back into the garden and chase Mama Van back through the janitor's flat and back with her babies where she belonged.
Then I gave very clear instructions to the janitor (who is going to move into the flat in a few weeks) concerning opening the windows only after he's looked for cats.
Physically and emotionally exhausted, Gabriele and I left the Embassy and went back to our respective homes.
Then, shock did of course set in. First and foremost it was total and utter shock and disgust about the First Secretary's behaviour. I suppose I don't have to elaborate.
And after that came the realization that I'd just been bitten by a stray cat, that my last tetanus vaccination had been in 1995, and that I wasn't vaccinated against rabies. May I say that I passed a very, very miserable Thursday evening, especially because I read up on rabies; the descriptions didn't make me feel much better. Anyway, I was sure that for both tetanus and rabies, PEP shots were both possible and successful, and the available material proved me right.
So I went to have both shots yesterday. Tetanus wasn't a problem at the private hospital I always go to, but the rabies shot can only be dispensed by one public hospital in Ankara - hardly surprising, because these things must be duly recorded. At the private hospital, there are some members of staff who speak English, but to go to a public hospital I needed one of our local staff to accompany me. Aladdin was kind enough to go with me, and we were done after only two hours, which is something of a national record.
Apart from the PEP shot, the doctor also prescribed a strong antibiotic, because the bitten finger didn't look too good.
I'm not sure how I survived the rest of the day at the office, because I was dead tired, headachey and slightly feverish, but survive I did. I'm feeling much better today, but still very tired (the kind which makes you feel as if your whole body was made of lead), and the antibiotic is doing strange things to my intestines.
Anyway, feeling like a heap of lead jelly is nothing, absolutely nothing against what I felt on Thursday evening. It's over now, except for two more rabies shots next Friday and then 2 weeks after that. And except for some emotional scarring, because in spite of my venerable age, I just can't get my head around the fact that behaviour like the First Secretary's is possible. Needless to mention that when he saw me yesterday, knowing that I'd been to the hospital, he didn't even ask how I was. But that was to be expected I guess.
End of drama.
All of you who went to Portus, I envied you a bit - then again, there's always a next time. I hope you all returned safely to your respective homes (haven't caught up with the friends page yet). Have a nice weekend, everybody!
