Shoes, Ships, and Sealing Wax

If you try, you can still make a bad weekend worse

Especially if you do something really stupid.

I mentioned the death of my rat Saturday. That left her cagemate Oliver alone, and seeing him sitting on his shelf looking out at me was breaking my heart. Am I anthropomorphizing his feelings? Beats me. He looked terribly depressed.

Here is where I got stupid. If you don't keep up with the finer points of rat keeping you'll have to trust me on this one: really, really stupid.

I brought Oliver out with three other rats, rats who are also grown males and territorial. They were out for several minutes but I'll cut to the chase: big rat fight. And I didn't want anybody to get hurt because I'd fucked up. And so it didn't even cross my mind that the one who got hurt might be me.

George, a big sweet rat who is usually a momma's boy, got me on the second knuckle of my right index finger.

Much blood. Pain like I have never felt. On the way to the urgent care clinic, Victor's warning that animal bites need to be reported to animal control. Unthinkable fear about how they might view this.

The doctor at the urgent care clinic stitched the wound partly closed and gave me an antibiotic, a tetnus shot, and offered a narcotic. Thing is, I puke within about 20 minutes of every narcotic I have ever taken. The doctor said "Sucks to be you." Well, not in thoses exact words, but that's what I got out of it.

She also told me to see a hand surgeon on Tuesday, to evaluate for nerve damage. I haven't been able to bend the finger, but for now I'm thinking that is because of the swelling. And animal control hasn't knocked on the door demanding I turn George over, but I am sick wth dread over that idea. I'll be phoning the vet tomorrow too. I think the bite laws are about rabies control, and the vet can attest that George is neither rabid nor dangerous.

But I'm an idiot, and I'm anxious, and I'm in pain.

Posted by Nic at September 5, 2005 09:06 AM | TrackBack