Posted in Uncategorized on March 16, 2011
The cat bite led to an infection. Because of course it did. Not a raging infection exactly. Not rabies or lockjaw or polio or typhoid or malaria or something with any kind of tropical or literary cache. But for sure an infection. The night after the bite, I went to urgent care after I read an alarming comment about rabies on the last post. No one wants rabies. In elementary school, my friend and I used to chew up this fizzing candy called Zotz and let our mouth foam and we’d roll our eyes and spit foam onto her driveway and stagger around screeching “Rabies! Rabies! Shoot me! I have rabies!” And her mother would come out of the house and be like, “Jesus Christ, can’t you just play Barbies?” But that’s as close as anyone want to get to rabies – fourth grade candy rabies. So I went in to urgent care. And sat with the other sickies with bronchitis who despite being given masks, chose not to wear them. So maybe I now have that as well.
Because it was urgent care, I was with a bunch of other poorly dumbos who had waited until after hours to be seen to. No one was bleeding, no one was rushed in on a gurney. Just a lot of people like me – ashamed, reading magazines, silently chastising ourselves. “That’s infected,” grimaced the nurse, when she saw me. The doctor who came in next asked what I knew about the cat – if it had run after me or lunged at me or dropped from a great height ninja-style from a tree. “No,” I whispered, “I uh, picked it up.” And they checked the box on my chart that said Possible Moronitis. They hooked me up to an IV full of antibiotics and left me there even when it went off and either forgot about me or were dealing with all the other cat bites because an hour later I was still sitting there with an empty IV in my arm. I sort of inched as far as I could with the IV still attached to my arm and karate kicked the nurses button. “Oh” she said, when she appeared at the doorway “you’re still here?” I think that’s the punishment for cat bites. It’s the grown up equivalent of a time out so you can think about what you’ve done.
We don’t currently have health insurance. Roo is looking for a new job and my job doesn’t provide insurance. So we’re waiting for COBRA to kick in. This cat bite is going to be more than my first car. Also, I didn’t have my wallet with me because I’d left the house in a hurry because I was pretty sure I felt the onset of lockjaw and was like I gotta go! They prescribed an antibiotic which I had to start that night in addition to needing to return to urgent care the following night for a shot in the ass. So I stopped at my mom’s house which is near the doctor’s office and was like, “Um mom can you come with me to the pharmacy and buy me some drugs.” She didn’t even ask. And when she did ask and I told her, she said, “You’re soft hearted like your grandmother.”
Soft hearted moron. Possibly with rabies. Most likely not. Though they did not give me rabies shots and won’t. Apparently California hasn’t had a rabies case in 50 years. “So I’d be the first?” I asked. “Yes,” they said.
I want that on my headstone if it comes to that.