Stateside and Infected with SARS-CoV-2

Brief catchup. I did the tasting at the distillery in Wick. Then did my bucket list tasting straight from the cask at the Strathisla distillery the next day. Turns out that they discontinued my favorite, Strathisla 12 year, so I bought two of their discontinued bottles. Then I spent my last day buying a few more bottles, tested negative for covid, then went to a few bars before catching a few hours of sleep before my flight home.

The first flight was from Inverness to Manchester. It was a long process with rechecking bags, but I made it to the flight to JFK. However, just before, the flight, my travel companion messaged me a picture of his positive Covid-19 test demonstrating that he had been infected with SARS-CoV-2. I wore my N95 mask diligently for the remainder of that day, which turned out to be long, with a missed connection at JFK due to a late flight, and learning about the free hotel hours later after spending hours with a headache walking between terminals with my suitcases in below freezing weather, finally reaching the hotel and making myself eat and shower before sleeping a few hours, and finally catching the flight home, at which point I had begun to more strongly feel symptoms beyond the headaches of the previous day. Cough, mild congestion, the signs of the common cold. I texted my mom, advising her to wear her N95 mask when she picked me up, and she instead wore a surgical mask. I kept my mask on. Every time I tried to tell her about the trip, I would begin coughing, so the car ride became silent, though she offered to take me out to eat. I had to decline because at that point, I knew that there was a fair chance that my breath could kill people. We got home and I had the relief of taking my mask off in my room. Shortly thereafter, I went to get tested, and sure enough, I did indeed test positive. So I packed up a partially unpacked bag and drove to my mother's Airbnb in Canton, which is where I have been all week. Symptoms have thankfully been mild, with the worst hitting on Tuesday, which was the fourth day of symptoms, at which point I began taking anti-cough and anti-diarrhea medicine, which solved most of the issues.

I was just reading about the psychological impact of post-pandemic life and how it will take adjusting. We will not be done overnight, and the psychological traumas of these experiences will stay with some of us for years to come. I do not know if I can or should ever remove the shadow that has been cast upon the character of those I once respected who were so willing to endanger the lives of those around them simply because of "freedom". My father who was proud of me getting an education, yet clearly had no respect for that education once it became relevant to the situation concerning which he had already decided that he was an expert. The same father who, when his father died from the virus, continually seemed blinded to the point of trying to repeat the same mistakes of gatherings that killed him in the first place. And the stepmom who, after demonstrating a lack of support for my fervently expressed wishes that they comply with public health guidance, said to me with a big smile "We are your biggest supporters". My oldest brother who, when asking me to show him the studies to back my claims, and to whom I replied that he can trust me because I am a doctor, denied that I was a doctor and said that I had studied at my mother's house. The church leaders who advertised large maskless gatherings at a time when vaccines were not prevalent, or who promoted a demagogue in an election simply on the principle that their conservative views were being empowered politically. The sister who was exposed to this deadly disease at a holiday party and would not move from the common room into a private room to isolate because she "didn't feel like it", thus driving me to move out for periods of time. And of course, throughout it all, the constant changing of minds that seemed to be based not on any rational form of logic, but rather on simply doing something other than what official guidance suggested. Wear masks at all times until those are the official guidelines, at which point switch back to being against them, or only wear them as prescribed rather than rationally thinking about situations in which viral spread would be most likely.

It was during this time that I began to reconsider some of my previous views on people, on humanity. To some extent, I know that my judgments here are limited to Americans, as this individualistic culture is clearly birthing the worst sort of people. People in general are bad, in my view. Self-interests ultimately reign supreme, though they certainly mean well and can feel justified in their actions. But well-wishes somehow do not overcome their politicized reasoning behind not putting on a mask or getting vaccinated. That is my feeling toward the general population. Within my own family, I can confidently say that I only think that throughout this pandemic, I am the only one that I trusted in the slightest to maintain rational thought and reason. Out of five of us siblings, what that tells me is that there should not be more of us. So whatever desire I had to eventually have offspring has changed into a bit of a responsibility to prevent such progeny from coming to be. I recognize that we were also raised a certain way, but with a sister, an aunt, and a grandma who all potentially have some form of narcissistic personality disorder, one has to begin to assume that there could be something very wrong with the psychological profile of our family tree, and I do not want to risk it any further.

I allowed myself to like a girl during this pandemic. That too taught me something, mostly that my brain cannot handle a romantic relationship. It certainly helped that the feelings were unrequited. My social anxieties might have turned into a shy and playful quirk a decade ago in the dating world, but enough of me has become rigid and moody that I do not think that it could happen. That alone is a significant reason. Then add in the fact that I am currently uncertain within my faith, in large part due to the aforementioned ethical betrayals of Christian leaders, and how very specific a type of person I am, and I just do not see me finding that person. And frankly, I no longer crave it quite like I once did. To be clear, that could be a form of denialism, but for the moment at least, it is certainly the sentiment with which I most strongly resonate.

I have hardly read my Bible over the past year, whereas it was previously essentially a daily routine. This is a habit that I would like to resume. It became distasteful to me when it became so tied to nationalism in the domestic terrorist attack at the nation's capitol last year, and in the midst of grieving the loss of my grandfather the month after, I lost all of that drive. Even at this point, I am realizing that grieving his loss really took a lot out of me, even thinking of my academic track, and perhaps I do not need to be quite so hard on myself. In any case, I used to say to myself that for me, saying that God does not exist is like denying that your own parents exist. It is a fact, regardless of how uncomfortable it happens to make you. I am far more eager to connect with my heavenly father than the other one. One guides me whereas the other one mansplains medicine to me, one who earned a doctorate in the subject.

Train to Wick

We made it back from Isle of Skye to Loch Ness, after a brief stop by the fairy pools, and finally ended the day back in Inverness on Saturday. That night, we went to a place that technically had karaoke, but I will contend that it was far more of a club vibe that just happened to have karaoke as the backing track for parts of it. Those in attendance appeared to primarily be involved in hen or stag parties, and all were likely at least a decade younger than us, most close to the local drinking age of 18. Nevertheless, I sang, as did my travel companion for his first karaoke experience. We then went from there to the Market Bar, which is the cheap and friendly dive bar in the area.

The next day, we returned our car rental to the airport and I found myself to be exhausted from our weeks of travel, so I did not do much for the next couple of days apart from attending an open mic and a singer-songwriter night, although we did also fit another distillery tour into our Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day spent traveling by train to drink a drink that I love in a land that I love, not so far from the place from which my people hail.

Last night, my travel companion had begun feeling ill, enough so that he took a rapid covid test. It was negative, but he felt even worse this morning, so I find myself on a train alone to the north of Scotland for a distillery tour and tasting of a maritime scotch sampling. I appreciate this. As difficult as it was all of those years ago when I backpacked Western Europe alone, my experiences there were made all the more rich by the fact that I was alone, that every step was a matter of me deciding to press on. Today is a day trip north, and tomorrow will be a day trip east as long as weather permits, and Friday remains to be seen as I prepare to fly home on Saturday.

The car rental cost more than twice what we were originally quoted, and I have been feeling the pain of going overbudget now. I do have money in reserve, but the thrifty approach is prevailing as we finish up our time here. Thrifty of course besides the several bottles of scotch that I intend to purchase. And the riddle of how to pack those will also be a fun experience on Friday.

In any case, my current views now are of a Scottish loch, to be followed in awhile by the sea before finally reaching my destination in Wick.

On the Isle of Skye

Feb 10.

Sitting here in a café in Portree, Isle of Skye. Various parts of the room painted in differing bright colors of red, blue, orange, and yellow, with the assorted heterogony leading to a distinct eclectic flavor balanced by the more serene view out the window. I have spent the better part of this hour gazing out there at the boats spotting this harbor and the inlet further beyond, with all overlooked by these cliffs. Some cliffs sheer, others with a perceptible climb to them, all with this fog and mist that alludes to just how moist the green and brown vegetation spreading across them must be. The magnitude of it reminds one of why this part of the world worshipped gods associated with nature. Even with the current relative calm of a simple persistent wind, one recognizes the inherent power that they must encounter upon the seas. Just as cathedrals were built in great sizes in order to remind oneself of how small they are compared to the might of God, these natural behemoths of cliffs and crags and waters bring one to a place of true recognition of one's spot in the midst of the elementals.

Though there is a constant feel of an overcast sky making its presence known, the sunlight also manages to make remarkedly pronounced bursts through its tunneling. My favorite moments thus far have occurred when the clouds are dark and angry, but a beam forces its way through regardless of the surrounding tempestuous mood.

Feb 11.

Back in the same café again, with the same view. As though to mirror my quelled excitement after seeing and doing so much yesterday, the winds and water of the bay have calmed significantly. The first activity of the day yesterday was also the highlight, as my research had anticipated. The hike up to the Old Man of Storr was at first merely windy, but still sunny throughout. But as one approached the rocky fingers, the local climate underwent a significant change from springtime sunny to foggy with harsh winds and sleet. I ran as full speed as I could only to be blown back, my face painfully pelted by ice, and it was during this time that the Old Man took my hat with my name on it. But even in the midst of this, the contrast and the views throughout were constantly breathtaking even as they varied by weather and elevation. We reached a point where a fence blocked the way as the ice pellets attacked, so we turned around and tried another way which gave us an incredible view of the mainland as well as the old man. We then decided to make the trek back down, and from there moved on to Kilt Rock and Mealt Falls, which fortunately consumed significantly less of our time than had the old man. We then ventured on to the Fairy Glen, where concentric circles had been placed. We heard that animal sacrifices still took place there, so that is a weird thing.

That evening, I resolved to have coffee after such a long day so that I could further enjoy the night, but I did end up just deciding on sleep. This has been a consistent decision for me, in part because it allows me to wake up early enough for alone time, contemplation, and writing these entries.

Today began with a trip to Sligachan Old Bridge, where legend has it that if you can hold your face in the water for seven seconds and let it dry off naturally, you get eternal beauty. If that is the case, then I have hereby earned my eternal beauty. From there, we drove on to Dunvegan Castle, but it was unfortunately closed with no opportunity even to see it from afar. So we drove onward toward the lighthouse on the far west side of the island, but this is of course when our tire went flat. Though we missed the Talisker distillery tour, this forced stop did allow us time to first roam the nearby hills, then finally sit and journal in the midst of that windy rugged landscape. Typing is easier, but there is something about the use of a pen on paper.

We had fortunately paid up for the priciest insurance policy on the rental, so there was no need to worry over the bill to come for the tow truck across the island nor for the tire replacement. We were taken back to town, the tire replaced, had dinner, and then ended the evening with a stop at the most popular bar that for tonight was hosting a billiard tournament. The skillset was lacking, which I only know from time spent around folks who were competitive in such an arena. My friend competed and after sampling some of the scotch that I would otherwise likely have tried on that missed distillery tour, I excused myself to write this.

That time with the flat tire in particular was a highlight for the day. Being forced to sit and listen to the silence, to stop fidgeting or looking at a distraction like one's phone, and instead to just be present and try to write something, anything. A form of peace is found in such a practice, and I miss the times in which I would do so more regularly. Part of my excuse for not doing so has been my laptop's keyboard, which does malfunction frequently, but is clearly up to the job of composing my thoughts (with occasional pauses to correct issues).

Westward to the Isle

I am here in Fort William, sitting in a café under the watchful eye of the largest mountain in this country, Ben Nevis. Yesterday, I paid a visit to a distillery that was named after this mountain, and this was my first scotch distillery tour. And oh what a wonder. The tour of course reminded me of all the science that I have forgotten, and then the tasting itself... they were clearly pushing their newer items, but the last scotch in the tasting was fashioned using a recipe meant to resemble their 1880s scotch, the kind that first garnered the attention of the queen. And I must admit that the balance was very nice, offering the flavor of the smoky peat without overwhelming the taste. I am kicking myself for not picking up a bottle, but we have not yet left the city, so I still have some hope of dropping back by there once more.

I met a fellow doctor last night who had his own similar complaints about this nation's medical system and training placement. Difficulties abound.

Update: I picked up that bottle of scotch along with another smaller single cask one, and then traversed by car through the mountainous highlands to reach Portree in the Isle of Skye. Though famous for its natural beauty, when asked what there was to do at night here, the hostel worker replied "it's pretty quiet". So it appears that our time here will be spent hiking by day and boozing by night, just as my ancestors did in days of yore.

Our room here houses just me and my friend, making it the closest to a standard hotel room that I have yet had on this trip. Maybe my next trip here will afford me nicer accommodations. I previously enjoyed hostels for meeting people, but perhaps because I have companionship throughout this trip... I mostly desire to experience these places in a solitary manner. Seems like it can hit harder if done in such a way. And if we are being honest, I dislike people more than I once did. Medical school and the pandemic have revealed to me just how selfish people are at heart, how unwilling most people appear to look beyond their own interests if it becomes at all inconvenient for them to do so. Ah, the power of an education to make someone so very negative.

Time to Breathe & Come to Senses

From a snowy day in Inverness to a day of Irish coffee, to a look around secondhand shops followed by a climb over Holyrood Park to the oldest pub in Edinburgh, the Sheep Heid Inn, from bus routes awry hiking back through cold and rain to a revisit to a pub crawl that seemed designed to make me feel world's older than when I had last undertaken it, to dreams of these thoughts and feelings, to today's late start in a walk to a museum and now to a coffee shop, the trip has been active.

Going back to last night's pub crawl, which we left early, and the dreams that followed... I had such distinct aged feelings. Others on the pub crawl were still youthful enough to have more significant acne struggles, whereas I have had time to slowly earn my doctorate and sit on it for years. The last pub that we made it to carded them, but waved me on. I recognize that the age for that here is 18, but I am used to being carded a decent amount of the time. Once again, age. Asked what I do. Well, I do not practice medicine...

I started to feel as if I was getting enough escape out of this trip that I wanted more stability. With a decent non-clinical medical job, many of my immediate problems could be solved. I can still put together a reel for the acting stuff, but I much of my desires there arise from the idea that I believe that I still have much talent in that arena. But talent does not need to override learned skills and knowledge. A more permanent change of scenery is of significant import, and this can be more likely afforded by the medical work. Imagine a place of my own and a job in which I contribute in a tangible way to a real good thing.

Of course, if the meme stocks shoot up in value within the next week or two, my plans may be forced to change in a way that more thoroughly accommodates my yearnings. But just like getting back into acting, such a prospect is not a stable reliability.

Update: Visited that cheap pub again, but instead of hanging out afterwards, I went to take a couple hours of nap time. And then finally, I found karaoke. Hosted by a human who appeared to be trans female, but may have just been an enthusiastic cross-dresser, it was a fun night beginning with a small crowd and a chance to practice scarier songs, then followed by bigger groups that actively participated.

I feel out of place for being older, but I also remember similar feelings as a younger gent. Perhaps I need to have some grace for myself as someone who will, at all years of life, continue to suffer from the human condition. And this may be a symptom of that condition.

I found myself thinking tonight about how the LGBTQ folks feel out of place. As a white cis straight person, I still manage to feel like a big stretch from what I am supposed to be feeling at a given time. But if I was born or raised some other way? Those sorts of feelings would have been exaggerated further and at a much earlier time. So despite how much I do like those folks, I am glad that I am of a different variety. Because life is hard regardless, and 'tis better to approach it on easy mode.

I am still leaning more toward doing a normal job, as opposed to pursuing the world of entertainment. Dr. Ken Jeong did not quit his real job until the opportunities were abounding, and that seems a decent methodology. That being said, he also lived in a part of the country where auditions were plentiful. But maybe I will find some zoom ones.

In Scotland

 After long hours of travel to Edinburgh, then an almost-late entry to the train to Inverness, and a continuous battle against jet lag throughout, I find myself in this northerly part of Scotland. In my ears are "Get Me Away From Here I'm Dying" by Belle and Sebastian from a Scottish playlist put together by my friend who earned his masters degree in sound design in Edinburgh, and I cannot help but think that such a sentiment is what sent me to this land in the first place. I have this feeling of having been wasting away, locked into the cruel progression of time and geographical stagnation. And certain fears remain, such as the fact that upon searching last night for events or company, the only lively bits about town seemed to be related to a rugby game, which is an activity concerning which I have not the slightest passing fancy.

So in this moment sitting in Starbucks after having redeemed my saved points for accidentally abominably large drinks, I attempt to take a glance around before remembering that my neck muscles and joints are so fixed that they limit such abilities. I have been so fixed in such a narrow state of living that I am physically prevented from seeing further beyond that restricted peripheral, and so perhaps a goal of my time here will be to simply expand this line of sight. Does this mean that I go into acting? Or does this mean that I work a non-clinical medical job with the recognition that it need not prevent me from doing more as well? Fortunately, these are questions that need not be answered until this trip has reached its cessation.

For the second time in a few days, I am in a city filled with the spoken accents of my predecessors and the physical accents of the architecture that continues to be representative of how they lived, and all of these captivations overlooked by a castle on a hill.