If It’s Rabies, I Get a Prize

Cat scratch feeeeevaaaahhh!

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.

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8 Responses to “If It’s Rabies, I Get a Prize”

  1. Kristy says:

    “Possible Moronitis” HAHAHAHA!

    Oh, Tara. I love your soft hearted self. How sweet of your mother to say “hearted” instead of “headed”. (Not that I think you’re soft headed! But I’m too soft hearted to say so if I did!) 😉

    I hope you feel better quickly.

  2. Cassondra says:

    For future reference the order in which to rescue a cat is:
    1. Feed it
    2. Pet it
    3. Feed it some more, and hopefully barely inside a cat carrier so that you can trap it in the carrier while it’s eating.

    NEVER PICK IT UP! Ok, I won’t say never. Once you’ve sat by it and petted it while it eats, and it’s crawled in your lap purring curled up and gone to sleep, it MIGHT be ok to pick it up. But even then you can’t be sure. It might have sores or something that you can’t see that would hurt it if you pick it up, and cats don’t react well to things that hurt. When hurt or startled they bring out the sharp bits. I have a cat who can go from sound asleep in my lap to down the hall and under the bed in seconds whenever the doorbell rings. This requires that she have EXCELENT traction (provided by claws) as she leaps from my lap halfway across the room. I have the scars to proove it.

    P.S. I hope you don’t have rabies. It’d be a shame to have to shoot you.

  3. emmysuh says:

    You know, “Barbies” and “rabies” are spelled oddly similar. Maybe you could have scared your friend’s mom by playing Barbies with Rabies?

    Hope you feel better soon!

  4. Wendy says:

    HAhahahaha “moronitis” HAhahahahha I’ve had that.

  5. Jacquie says:

    I just read this the other day and I think it totally applies!

    http://www.rocket-shoes.com/a-cat-is-just-a-really-small-tiger-that-wants-to-kill-you/

  6. Jenny Grace says:

    My sister got cat scratch fever when she was a kid. Because it’s a real disease (I know right?).
    It’s like mono, but from the claws of cats.

  7. Veronica says:

    YES. You would definitely need that on your tombstone.

  8. Amber says:

    I’m astonished that I’m the first person to point out that your future clearly lies in hand modeling. Those fingernails! Perfect. And, poor you.

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