About
a week ago I was working at my computer late at night when I heard a strange sound
coming from
my kitchen. A scratching sound followed by clanking would cease as soon as
I
took a step towards the kitchen. Ghosts? Not likely. Rats?
I decided to ignore the sound
for the night and finish my work.
The next morning I looked around, opened all the drawers
looking for
evidence. When I came to the last little drawer I paused. What if the rat is
still in
there? I contemplated for a moment and then quickly slid open the
drawer. Big brown Norway
Rat crazily jumps at me. I
instinctively used my right hand to brush it off my chest. That's when
it bit me. And I mean it chomped down on the fleshy skin between my thumb and my forefinger.
I could smell the mammal's anxiety filled sweat as it squealed in fright. My
heart was so busy
moving around inside that at first it felt like an electric shock.
I slammed my hand (and the rat
still attached) against the wall and
the brown blur took off out the open front door.
I washed my hands for about ten minutes. Looked for blood,
but there wasn't any puncture
wound really, so I considered myself
lucky. That was six days ago. At first the symptoms were
mild. I thought I had the common cold or something, no way the rat could have
given me rabies.
Then I started seeing things. In my peripherals,
flashes of red and white something. By this
point my right
hand was always at a slight tremor. Again my fear of hospitals kept me thinking
that I was experiencing some form of post-traumatic stress and that after a good night's sleep
all would be right. Some time around three in the morning my dream of being underwater guided
me into consciousness. My bed was soaking wet. My mouth was so
dry I couldn't move my tongue.
My arms were heavy as lead. I could read
LED of the clock: 333:333000. The television was on
some
ad for an AB Trainer but the people looked like hobbits. They sounded like demons in a bad movie.
An overwhelming smell of rat feces and bile prompted me to vomit trapped gas and some bile.
Then
the tremors started. My leg muscles felt like they had
broken off the tendons. All this time I was trying
to speak but my
tongue wouldn't allow any sound other than a low groan. That's when I lost my bowels.
About five hours
later I awoke face down on the floor. I looked around my bedroom. All over the
walls
were large indentations with pieces of hair and blood. Somehow
I crawled to the bathroom mirror to examine
what felt like ground beef on my head.
I must have passed out when I saw it because the next thing I remember
is being
carried into Cottage Hospital and hearing someone yelling; "Rabies? Nobody gets
rabies!" So
now I look in the mirror and see a big bandage around
my head and hand, my left eye has a patch over it and
my jaw is wired shut.
So, for the next few weeks my column might not be as interesting from this sterile
environment, or maybe the 21 year old intern from Belgium likes pity cases?
Her smile makes the hurt
go away if only for a moment.
