The adventure continues, part four.
Jun. 4th, 2007 08:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
outsdrWe got to the emergency room. It must have been a slow night, because there were a number of nurses and doctors standing around the check-in desk. I told them I was there for the rabies treatments that my doctor had set up. He hadn't told them, however, why I was actually there. One of the doctors asked me if I had been been by the bat at the elementary school. I said no, I hadn't heard about that. I said that I had been bitten by a *cough* kitten. Yes, a kitten, and I told them the story. The nurse behind the desk began to check over my records there, updating my address as needed and such. One man in his early forties with "Dr. Wow" embroidered on his smock joked around with me about various nothings.
(It turns out that a rabid bat had been discovered in May at a school in a town 20 miles away. Supposedly, 30 students had to be treated for rabies exposure, but I haven't been able to confirm that.)
A nurse in her mid forties began asking me some basic medical questions. I was asked when I'd had my last tetanus shot, and I said it had been over 20 years. I explained about my allergy to thimersol, which is used as a preservative in a number of vaccines, including tetanus and flu vaccines. The nurse asked me how I knew I was allergic to it, and how bad it was. I told her that it was being used as a preservative in contact lens solutions when I first started wearing contacts in the mid-80s, and that it had caused sever headaches and had temporarily paralyzed my eyes, although I didn't know if that constituted being "bad" or not. She nodded and said, "I think we'll just go with the preservative-free vaccine then." I said that I was fine with that, since I had been told at one point that I should only get vaccines containing thimersol in an immediate life-or-death situation, because no one really knew what it would do to me if it were to be injected!
I had my blood pressure taken, and my pulse taken. It was some sort of student doing so, as there was another (Doctor? Student Doctor? Nurse? I have no idea. He was younger than me, and British) man observing her as she took my blood pressure, pulse, and temperature. She remarked that she was surprised she had got it right the first time, since it was the first time she'd used the machine to take a temperature!
The room I was in had originally been some sort of dental room, and still had the dentist chair, in which I was sitting. My roommate was hanging out in there with me, and a steady stream of staff came in to ask me questions, especially after word started getting around that it was a kitten that had bit me. While this was amusing to them, no one at any time said that I was being needlessly worried- in fact, a number of them said that it was a good thing that I was doing. There were a number that had some rather graphic ideas about how to take care of stray cats, none of which I found agreeable, and some of which disturbed me.
The nurse who had been asking me my medical questions came into the room, both of her hands held together and loaded with boxes of vaccine, like someone had just poured an entire bag of candy into her hands.
I just stared at her. "Oh, this is nothing," she said, "I have to go back and get some more!"
While she was gone, the nurse who had initially checked me in and gotten my personal contact information and such came in to ask me if I had insurance. I explained that I did, and she asked for my insurance card. While I was digging it out, she said she was glad that I had insurance, because the shots I was getting that day cost $6,000. I almost dropped my wallet. "Don't worry," she said, "Your insurance should cover 80% of it." Great, I thought. That's still $1,200 I need to come up with. Better than the alternative, though.
The older nurse returned with the rest of the medicine. She explained that the amount needed was based on weight, and that since I was so big (6'1" 295 lbs) I needed a lot. And then she pulled out the syringes.
Seriously, the needles looked a foot long, although they were actually only two inches in length. As she explained where I would be getting the injections, I jokingly asked her if we couldn't just amputate my hand instead?
There were six total injection sites: The big muscle in each thigh; slightly above each buttock; and in each arm. She explained that these were deep-muscle injections, which was why the needle was so long, and that yes, they were going to hurt. I had been expecting to get an injection at the bite site on my hand, but she said that too much time had passed for an injection there to do any good.
She was professional, and efficient. She wanted to start with the injections to my thighs, so I lowered my pants and sat back down. She told me to prepare myself. I wrapped my arms around the arms of the chair so that I wouldn't jerk, took a deep breath and tried to relax as she started to push the needle in... and in... and in... and in...
It hurt, but it wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. I've had far more painful injections, usually in my mouth during dental work. This was sort of a deep, uncomfortable pain.
"BREATH!"
I'd forgotten to let the deep breath out. At some point I'd screwed up my eyes too, it seemed. She switched to the other leg. I was some what more prepared, but this time, as the needle went in, it felt like she was driving a live wire into my thigh. My muscle twitched some. When she pulled the needle out, the shocking feeling stopped, and I sank limply into the chair. I explained to her what it had felt like.
"Good!" she said, and cackled.
I stared at her. "Thank you, Doctor Kevorkian."
That really made her laugh, but then she looked at my left leg, the one she'd started with, and frowned. Apparently, I was bleeding, which she hadn't expected to happen. I looked at my other leg, and it was bleeding too. She dug around for some band-aids, and was able to find one. She then said she'd just have to do it the old fashioned way, and fixed up my left leg with the band-aid, and used a cotton ball and some medical tape on my right leg.
After patching me up, she had me lean forward against the counter and drop my underwear a little. I couldn't see what she was doing this time, and when the needle hit the skin, I jumped, and she missed, so she had to start over. My roommate laughed at this (He was enjoying the entire spectacle) so I said, "Hey! I don't think I lowered my pants enough!" and lowered my boxers beneath both butt cheeks and mooned him. They both laughed.
That injection hurt more than the thigh injections, although again, it was a deep uncomfortable sort of pain. When she prepared to move to the other side, I told her that I had jumped because I couldn't see what she was doing, and if she would warn me first this time, I probably wouldn't jump. She said she'd count to three... "One, two, three" and the needle went in.
I still jumped. I was expecting the needle to go in AFTER three, not ON three. But she was ready for me, and firmly pressed the needle home. Andy later told me that the for all the injections, she had to push the needle in as far as it could go. No wonder it was painfully uncomfortable.
Again, I started bleeding. She managed to patch up one side on her own, but had trouble with the tape and had my roommate hold the cotton ball on with his finger while she worked out the tape. Then she let me sit back down.
The arm shots were much more bearable and less painful, probably because the needle was shorter. The last shot into my right arm was the least painful of all, and it was the actual rabies vaccine; the rest had been immunoglobs, she said. The rabies vaccine was actually made up of dead rabies virus; being dead, they couldn't harm me, but would still provoke an immunity response from my body. The immunoglobs would help boost my immune system, I think. That shot, oddly, had an oily feel to it as it was injected, which doesn't make any sense to me.
She finished taping me up, and started cleaning up all of the debris left behind from the injections. I stood up and got ready to leave, but the nurse sharply told me to sit back down, they wanted me to sit quietly for 10 minutes to make sure I wasn't going to have any adverse reactions, like fainting. As big as I am, I can understand why they wouldn't want me taking a header in the hallway. My legs were kind of shaky anyway, so I gladly sat back down. My muscles were beginning to ache deeply where the injections had been given.
She explained that I needed to come back in three days, then in seven days, and then in 14 days from the initial injection date, but that the worst was over- the next time it would only be three injections, and they wouldn't be as painful. And, she said, once I finished the series, if I ever got bit again, I wouldn't have to start all over, I would only need a booster shot.
"Just like a dog?" I asked.
"Just like a dog," she said.
"Cool. Do I get a tag for my collar?"
"No."
Damn it. I ended up not even getting a sticker. I made arrangements to return on Saturday, which would be three days after the injections. They said I could come in any time, and they all said good-bye. One doctor asked me if I'd learned my lesson, and what I would do the next time there was a kitten coming towards me.
"Run away?" I asked.
"Grab a shotgun," he said. I have no idea if he was joking or not.
One thing that surprised me- the entire time I was there, neither the student nurse taking my blood pressure and other vitals, nor the nurse who actually did the injections wore latex gloves.
I limped back to the car, and my roommate drove us home. My muscles were really stiffening up. As soon as I got home, I checked the traps. Momma cat was still glaring at me from the corner, and had spilled her water bowl. The second trap contained another angry black kitten. It was about 6:30. I called my vet, left a message, and threw a blanket over both the cages for the night.
My muscles settled into a painful ache, but didn't get any worse. I didn't seem to be developing any of the dangerous symptoms I'd been told to watch out for (mainly severe bruising anywhere on my body from light touches), so my roommate and I had some dinner and I went to bed early. First I went out to check the cages. The blanket was still draped across them, and the two remaining kittens, one black one and the gray one that had bit me, were curled up together on the blanket, pushed up against the cages. They both scattered when they saw me. I just stood there for a minute, feeling sad. I like cats; and while I knew that I was doing the best thing I could, it still made me feel bad. I went back in the house, and to bed.
I was just starting to settle in and fall asleep, Ike stretched out beside me and our cat on my chest, when my vet called back. It was just after 10 p.m., and she apologized for calling so late, but she had needed to run out of town. I told her it was fine. She told me the two kittens that had been euthanized earlier had been shipped out overnight, and that the labs should have them the next day and have a answer pretty quickly. I told her that I had caught another kitten, although it was still not the right one. I asked if I could bring it by first thing in the morning, and she said that was fine, anytime after 7:30.
I hung up the phone, and tried to find a comfortable position that wasn't disturbing Ike, the cat draped across me like a sack of flour, or my sore muscles, and finally fell asleep.
More soon.
(It turns out that a rabid bat had been discovered in May at a school in a town 20 miles away. Supposedly, 30 students had to be treated for rabies exposure, but I haven't been able to confirm that.)
A nurse in her mid forties began asking me some basic medical questions. I was asked when I'd had my last tetanus shot, and I said it had been over 20 years. I explained about my allergy to thimersol, which is used as a preservative in a number of vaccines, including tetanus and flu vaccines. The nurse asked me how I knew I was allergic to it, and how bad it was. I told her that it was being used as a preservative in contact lens solutions when I first started wearing contacts in the mid-80s, and that it had caused sever headaches and had temporarily paralyzed my eyes, although I didn't know if that constituted being "bad" or not. She nodded and said, "I think we'll just go with the preservative-free vaccine then." I said that I was fine with that, since I had been told at one point that I should only get vaccines containing thimersol in an immediate life-or-death situation, because no one really knew what it would do to me if it were to be injected!
I had my blood pressure taken, and my pulse taken. It was some sort of student doing so, as there was another (Doctor? Student Doctor? Nurse? I have no idea. He was younger than me, and British) man observing her as she took my blood pressure, pulse, and temperature. She remarked that she was surprised she had got it right the first time, since it was the first time she'd used the machine to take a temperature!
The room I was in had originally been some sort of dental room, and still had the dentist chair, in which I was sitting. My roommate was hanging out in there with me, and a steady stream of staff came in to ask me questions, especially after word started getting around that it was a kitten that had bit me. While this was amusing to them, no one at any time said that I was being needlessly worried- in fact, a number of them said that it was a good thing that I was doing. There were a number that had some rather graphic ideas about how to take care of stray cats, none of which I found agreeable, and some of which disturbed me.
The nurse who had been asking me my medical questions came into the room, both of her hands held together and loaded with boxes of vaccine, like someone had just poured an entire bag of candy into her hands.
I just stared at her. "Oh, this is nothing," she said, "I have to go back and get some more!"
While she was gone, the nurse who had initially checked me in and gotten my personal contact information and such came in to ask me if I had insurance. I explained that I did, and she asked for my insurance card. While I was digging it out, she said she was glad that I had insurance, because the shots I was getting that day cost $6,000. I almost dropped my wallet. "Don't worry," she said, "Your insurance should cover 80% of it." Great, I thought. That's still $1,200 I need to come up with. Better than the alternative, though.
The older nurse returned with the rest of the medicine. She explained that the amount needed was based on weight, and that since I was so big (6'1" 295 lbs) I needed a lot. And then she pulled out the syringes.
Seriously, the needles looked a foot long, although they were actually only two inches in length. As she explained where I would be getting the injections, I jokingly asked her if we couldn't just amputate my hand instead?
There were six total injection sites: The big muscle in each thigh; slightly above each buttock; and in each arm. She explained that these were deep-muscle injections, which was why the needle was so long, and that yes, they were going to hurt. I had been expecting to get an injection at the bite site on my hand, but she said that too much time had passed for an injection there to do any good.
She was professional, and efficient. She wanted to start with the injections to my thighs, so I lowered my pants and sat back down. She told me to prepare myself. I wrapped my arms around the arms of the chair so that I wouldn't jerk, took a deep breath and tried to relax as she started to push the needle in... and in... and in... and in...
It hurt, but it wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. I've had far more painful injections, usually in my mouth during dental work. This was sort of a deep, uncomfortable pain.
"BREATH!"
I'd forgotten to let the deep breath out. At some point I'd screwed up my eyes too, it seemed. She switched to the other leg. I was some what more prepared, but this time, as the needle went in, it felt like she was driving a live wire into my thigh. My muscle twitched some. When she pulled the needle out, the shocking feeling stopped, and I sank limply into the chair. I explained to her what it had felt like.
"Good!" she said, and cackled.
I stared at her. "Thank you, Doctor Kevorkian."
That really made her laugh, but then she looked at my left leg, the one she'd started with, and frowned. Apparently, I was bleeding, which she hadn't expected to happen. I looked at my other leg, and it was bleeding too. She dug around for some band-aids, and was able to find one. She then said she'd just have to do it the old fashioned way, and fixed up my left leg with the band-aid, and used a cotton ball and some medical tape on my right leg.
After patching me up, she had me lean forward against the counter and drop my underwear a little. I couldn't see what she was doing this time, and when the needle hit the skin, I jumped, and she missed, so she had to start over. My roommate laughed at this (He was enjoying the entire spectacle) so I said, "Hey! I don't think I lowered my pants enough!" and lowered my boxers beneath both butt cheeks and mooned him. They both laughed.
That injection hurt more than the thigh injections, although again, it was a deep uncomfortable sort of pain. When she prepared to move to the other side, I told her that I had jumped because I couldn't see what she was doing, and if she would warn me first this time, I probably wouldn't jump. She said she'd count to three... "One, two, three" and the needle went in.
I still jumped. I was expecting the needle to go in AFTER three, not ON three. But she was ready for me, and firmly pressed the needle home. Andy later told me that the for all the injections, she had to push the needle in as far as it could go. No wonder it was painfully uncomfortable.
Again, I started bleeding. She managed to patch up one side on her own, but had trouble with the tape and had my roommate hold the cotton ball on with his finger while she worked out the tape. Then she let me sit back down.
The arm shots were much more bearable and less painful, probably because the needle was shorter. The last shot into my right arm was the least painful of all, and it was the actual rabies vaccine; the rest had been immunoglobs, she said. The rabies vaccine was actually made up of dead rabies virus; being dead, they couldn't harm me, but would still provoke an immunity response from my body. The immunoglobs would help boost my immune system, I think. That shot, oddly, had an oily feel to it as it was injected, which doesn't make any sense to me.
She finished taping me up, and started cleaning up all of the debris left behind from the injections. I stood up and got ready to leave, but the nurse sharply told me to sit back down, they wanted me to sit quietly for 10 minutes to make sure I wasn't going to have any adverse reactions, like fainting. As big as I am, I can understand why they wouldn't want me taking a header in the hallway. My legs were kind of shaky anyway, so I gladly sat back down. My muscles were beginning to ache deeply where the injections had been given.
She explained that I needed to come back in three days, then in seven days, and then in 14 days from the initial injection date, but that the worst was over- the next time it would only be three injections, and they wouldn't be as painful. And, she said, once I finished the series, if I ever got bit again, I wouldn't have to start all over, I would only need a booster shot.
"Just like a dog?" I asked.
"Just like a dog," she said.
"Cool. Do I get a tag for my collar?"
"No."
Damn it. I ended up not even getting a sticker. I made arrangements to return on Saturday, which would be three days after the injections. They said I could come in any time, and they all said good-bye. One doctor asked me if I'd learned my lesson, and what I would do the next time there was a kitten coming towards me.
"Run away?" I asked.
"Grab a shotgun," he said. I have no idea if he was joking or not.
One thing that surprised me- the entire time I was there, neither the student nurse taking my blood pressure and other vitals, nor the nurse who actually did the injections wore latex gloves.
I limped back to the car, and my roommate drove us home. My muscles were really stiffening up. As soon as I got home, I checked the traps. Momma cat was still glaring at me from the corner, and had spilled her water bowl. The second trap contained another angry black kitten. It was about 6:30. I called my vet, left a message, and threw a blanket over both the cages for the night.
My muscles settled into a painful ache, but didn't get any worse. I didn't seem to be developing any of the dangerous symptoms I'd been told to watch out for (mainly severe bruising anywhere on my body from light touches), so my roommate and I had some dinner and I went to bed early. First I went out to check the cages. The blanket was still draped across them, and the two remaining kittens, one black one and the gray one that had bit me, were curled up together on the blanket, pushed up against the cages. They both scattered when they saw me. I just stood there for a minute, feeling sad. I like cats; and while I knew that I was doing the best thing I could, it still made me feel bad. I went back in the house, and to bed.
I was just starting to settle in and fall asleep, Ike stretched out beside me and our cat on my chest, when my vet called back. It was just after 10 p.m., and she apologized for calling so late, but she had needed to run out of town. I told her it was fine. She told me the two kittens that had been euthanized earlier had been shipped out overnight, and that the labs should have them the next day and have a answer pretty quickly. I told her that I had caught another kitten, although it was still not the right one. I asked if I could bring it by first thing in the morning, and she said that was fine, anytime after 7:30.
I hung up the phone, and tried to find a comfortable position that wasn't disturbing Ike, the cat draped across me like a sack of flour, or my sore muscles, and finally fell asleep.
More soon.
