Quite a traumatic day today. Until now I’ve accepted the constraints of my quarantine, though not agreeing with them, but today I really wished that I was not confined in here.

I wake to the news that my beloved Oscar is not well, panting, not wanting to walk or eat and throwing up. Poor Ms Jenevieve, who has looked after the boys so beautifully since they came to Hong Kong, is beside herself. Our normal visiting vet cannot attend today but we manage to get him an appointment with our excellent local vet.

(I do a Latin dance workout, while I’m waiting, which I enjoy hugely. These Apple Fitness+ workouts are a great way to explore music that you’ve only vaguely been aware of. I’ve always liked Latin stuff so this is great.)

At lunchtime the vet calls me to tell me that Oscar has a fever and that she suspects pneumonia but she’ll take some bloods and a chest x ray. The results are inconclusive. She’s worried about his fever but it could be that his body is not yet showing the signs of a full blown infection. She’d like to refer him to the hospital here in Wanchai for a specialist to investigate and where they can keep a closer eye on whether his condition worsens overnight.

Another worry lurks, however. Oscar was diagnosed about a year ago with a MAST tumour on his shoulder and also a small growth on his spleen, which could rupture at any time. We were told to enjoy last Christmas with him, with the inference that he might not last much longer than that, yet here he is a year later, 13.5 years old.

Ms Jenevieve brings him to Wanchai in a taxi – luckily he was initially seen at the vet clinic in DB North and therefore very near to the rank for Hong Kong taxis, and I try to reassure her by Whatsapp while trying not to convey my own anguish.

On payment in advance of the estimated bill – and at this point I am always reminded how there is no NHS for pets and what we would have to pay for the same treatment if we had no NHS – the hospital carries out an abdominal ultrasound. He does seem to be in a bit of pain but he’s very weak and tired so he doesn’t need any sedation. They decide to keep him in until he can be seen by a specialist, either an oncologist or a specialist in internal medicine – we don’t know yet.

Then worst bit is when Ms Jenevieve is asked to sign the consent to treatment forms which ask whether they should resuscitate Oscar should an emergency happen. What on earth should I say? I have not seen my  precious boy for 11 weeks. I’d considered the possibility of this happening and I wanted to be there with him at the end but what if the end comes before I can leave quarantine? My heart is screaming at me to beg them to keep him alive until Sunday so that I can see him, but… well, that’s just not right, is it? How can I bear to cause him more suffering just so that I can say goodbye?

I look out at the view over Causeway Bay. I can see Wanchai from here and it can only be a 20 minute walk but I am stuck.