Not the Island Kitten!!!

When I travel to Bermuda, friends are understandably envious- even acquaintances. That is to be expected, because I am visiting a beautiful place in the world. But, hey! If it makes you feel better- it isn't all 'sugar and spice and everything nice' all the time...

On Sunday morning, I woke up feeling quite spry- even after the big party.  Linda, Lynn, Janie and I sat in the lounge drinking caffeine- laughing about the evening prior- particularly the silly snapshots and videos that had been taken to document a very celebratory event!

My plans for 'the day after' included the Mistletoe Market at Dockyard (on the West End) and Caroling with the Dolphins at dusk- I could not possible miss that. It would be a nice relaxing day- taking in the island holiday vibe, at my own pace. 

As I cuddled "island kitten" in the living room, I was contented that he remembered me from my summer stays, and let me adore him for a while, since he is generally always in hunting mode nowadays- chasing lizards and making the resident herons wait for their squid 'offshore'. Having grown up with an orange cat, I have a special affection for this little guy- especially with those white Bermudian knee highs!

When the tiny crowd disbursed, I retreated to my room. I had just enough time for a quick cat nap myself, before hopping on two ferries to Dockyard. Suzie and Jane knocked on my door, and said farewell for the day, and I closed my eyes. 

Not ten minutes later, I found myself rubbing my left eye; there appeared to be an eyelash in it. Yet, despite continual attempts to get the eyelash out, my eye became more and more irritated- rapidly...I began to feel odd, and jumped out of bed to look in the mirror.

OH MY GOD! In a few short moments, the entire white of my eye was filling with fluid! It looked like a huge BLISTER! 

I was stunned! How could this have just happened?! Nobody with a car was here...I had to get help... I called my sister in New York, in an agitated state, and let her know- in case something untoward should happen. She tried to calm me, and reassured me that I was going to be fine, as I began to tear up. I then called Jane and told her frantically, "Sorry to bother... but I need to go to the Emergency Room, right away!" Sue was nearby, so she came at once. 

As we drove to the hospital, with my eye increasing in size, my morale hit an all time low. Going to the Emergency Room in Bermuda means paying in cash- what was this going to cost? And would they know how to help? Worst of all, I feared that they would need to stick a needle in my eye! I was rattled.

During our ride, Sue said, "I am a bit worried about you, Daisy..." I said, "What do you mean?" Somehow, I had heard an innuendo that perhaps I was a hypochondriac. She said, "It seems that whenever you come to Bermuda, you wind up at the doctor..." 

Oddly enough, I have had my fair share of 'escapades' here. Yet, all of them have been 100% real. Surely, I would rather stay an extra week on this island (or outfit myself with a different Jo Malone perfume for every day of the week) than seek medical care urgently- especially outside of the U.S.

As with many things in Bermuda, I find that when the pendulum swings one way, it often swings back. Despite my urgent predicament, the ER took me immediately, and had me seen by a doctor who trained at Northwell Health(in New York). My blood pressure went down slowly. I honestly have never been so happy to see a doctor, and that says something! 

The ER doc looked at my eye and said "OH MY! Your whole eye is still enlarging! WOW!" A sudden and severe allergic reaction, indeed. I could feel my eye getting bigger and bigger- not a sensation that I will soon forget. I feared that it would impact my sight.

The doctor explained to me that the eye fills with fluid to protect itself (Nina had mentioned this, too!); it looks horrific, but is a protective mechanism. She asked if I had been exposed to anything new recently... as she sent the nurse swiftly to get steroids and antihistamine!

OH NOOOOOO.

The only thing that I had touched- without washing my hands afterward- was my beloved island kitten. Not only that, I was hugging him close, rubbing noses, matching up the white stripes on his paws (yes, symmetrical)...right before I rubbed my eye... But, how could I possibly be so allergic to this cat, when I have two cats at home? It made no sense to me... until the doctor explained that he is an outdoor kitty, with exposure to Lord knows how many allergens- so it could have been his dander, or it could even be Bermuda grass that triggered me. 

All of a sudden, I recalled my Autumn stay in Bermuda- misdiagnosed with bacterial pink eye for two whole weeks; this was when I first met island kitten. Back then, he was an indoor baby, which explains why I only wound up at the walk-in clinic then, and not in the ER. 

DAMN. Allergic to my kitten!

Within 30 minutes, I felt dramatically better. I did a shot of hot pink, cinnamon (holiday?) Benadryl, took 60 mg. of Prednisone and headed to the cashier's office. The nice lady, Sherry said, "How are you feeling??" I said, "Much better! At least until I get my bill..." She laughed. "Well, I have good news and bad news", she said. "The bad news is that your bill is $680. The good news is that you have a credit! Are you local?? You are in our system three times this year!" Ha ha ha...

Feeling gutted, I explained to the cashier what had happened the past two times with my eyes. "You'll never guess what this kitty's name is", I told her. "TRIGGER!!" She burst out laughing. He might want to get a warning label...

Back at Salt Kettle, I was sleepy from Benadryl. I took a quick nap- determined to get to the singing dolphins, if nothing else. Truth be told, I was in a funk- a grey mood to match the grey day. Perhaps I should have stayed in bed, but time always feels short in Bermuda, so off I went.

There were very few folks on the ferry to Dockyard, and we were moving slow. Curiously slow. Typically, the ferry accelerates once out in open water, but we seemed to be creeping along. Knowing that I had just enough time to get to the dolphin show, I asked one of the officers on the boat about our pace. It turns out that the winter ferry schedule has more gaps in it, due to less runs. So, some pilots will go at regular speed, and others choose to meander along.

I arrived at Dolphin Quest just in time for the beginning of the show. This is the same facility where my niece and I had swam with dolphins several years back. There were bleachers set up around the pools, full of families with eager kids. The dolphin trainers were all in wetsuits with Santa Hats. The D.J. was raring to go- to lead us all in a sing-along, as the dolphins did tricks in the water.

What an unusual event, I thought- and a wonderful thing- to host a fun, free event with exposure to such magical creatures. As I listened to Frank Sinatra sing "Jingle Bells"- the rendition that filled my house as a child, I found myself delighted. "I love those J I N G L E Bells, Oh!" Then came Bing Crosby...Nice choices.

It is interesting. In my grief, I find that there are times when familiar Christmas carols from my life can either warm my heart and bring me comfort (as they did at the dolphin show) or make me terribly sad and nostalgic- longing for the past. It all depends on the context of the moment.

As I sat on the top bleacher, I had one of those moments, when you realize how often we live our lives through camera lenses. I was trying to snap a good shot of the dolphins for my blog, but instead I shot photos of the backs of peoples' heads who were also snapping photos. No wonder nobody was singing! The lady in front of me was making a full length feature film.

I was a wee bit disappointed by the lack of singing along at the 'sing along', because I did not relish hearing my voice aloud. I thought to myself- a church choir is what they might need- to get the audience going! Maybe next year? 

Afterwards, I fled to the Frog-n-Onion- hoping for a quick supper and a bus ride East that would be the perfect opportunity to see the island's Christmas lights. The Frog-n-Onion is a quintessential British Pub known for its drink, ambience, British specialties and live music. After my day (and in honor of the weather), I ordered a Dark and Stormy, unapologetically.

After supper, Dockyard was eerily quiet. I stopped for a few moments to take in the Christmas tree, outside the pub. On it were little paper frogs, each with a Christmas wish, written by a customer. Once I read one, there was no stopping me; I had to read them all. And how glad I am, that I did; the messages warmed my heart and gave me a good perspective on which to end my day, I thought.

As I left the pub, I could not help but notice that someone has "spilled their cookies" right in my path... was it a child who had too many sweets at the dolphin event, or a sports fan who had overdone him or herself at the pub? Regardless, I thought- this is not very Bermudian- to leave such a display on the pavement. It must have just occurred!

Exiting the courtyard adjacent to the pub, it was starting to rain. I wondered if the buses would be running continuously. It was a Sunday evening, and off-season. Far in the distance, I saw a spectacular Christmas tree. Knowing that it was en route to the bus stop, I headed toward it. It was my beacon. 

There was not another soul in sight. The weather was kicking up. I had never been here in the dark of night, when it was so desolate. My thoughts wandered to my being safe alone, and what if I could not get back to Paget... but, I kept walking... I saw no people. I saw no taxis. I saw no buses. When I reached the bus stop, there was not one person around to ask... Suddenly, I realized that I could be stranded out here.

I walked in the rain and wind, until I found an illuminated building! It was a restaurant, and it was open! Thank goodness... Popping in, I told the gentleman that I needed to get back to Paget. "The next bus is 10:45pm" he said- hours away! "Well then, I need a taxi!"  

"Oh, I don't know..." he said, making reference to the scarcity of taxis on this day, at this hour and during this season. I dialed both taxi numbers, and prayed. I was quite content to be out of the rain, with a shred of hope and some genuine Bermudian holiday ambience. After my day, there was no way that I would be hitch-hiking to Cambridge Beaches for a West End sleepover party!

Thankfully, a gentleman in Somerset was gracious enough to leave his wife, to drive me half way across Bermuda after his supper. It was pouring rain, and I felt awful that he was taken away from his quiet, cozy time at home. Yet, it turns out I was a silver lining for him, too; he had only made $30. all day, and relished the fare that he would make from me. We both needed each other, and thankfully we found each other!

Back at Salt Kettle, I could not wait to go to bed. I felt like I had been kicked. What are the chances that I would take a fall, break my phone, wind up in the ER and wind up isolated and alone at one end of Bermuda- all within a twenty-four hour period?

Thankfully, Nina sent me a text asking me to list all of the positive things that had happened during the same time frame; there were plenty! The common thread: I had been well looked after by many kind Bermudians- even a four-footed orange one, who was trying to make my day.

The little devil!