I got a call from Adam around 10 pm asking me if I'd come over...mom's cat wasn't feeling right, didn't look good. I was so tired, I told him he'd be fine and not to worry. He said, "No...you really should come, I think it's dying." I thought....oh please no. I go over and Kip doesn't look good at all. He was cold and basically paralyzed from the waist down. I immediately took him to the vet who confirmed Adam's assertion...that he wasn't doing well and was indeed dying. Thought he had a stroke and was alone for too long, causing him to go into shock which made his body temperature drop. I told the vet that while I understood that the prognosis seemed bleak...he HAD to do something to keep the thing alive until my mom got there. He said he could give him some morphine to make him comfortable but his best chance of living until mom got there would be to keep him still and keep him warm. I wrapped him up in a blanket, the doc gave me a heated back of saline solution and we took him home. The plan was to put him in a large bucket with a heating blanket in the bathroom and just wait for mom to get home and hope he stayed alive until then. I was hold him close to my chest while Curtis got the blanket warmed and in the bucket and lets just say that the morphine must've made him comfortable and gave him a drug induced-new lease on life and he was not happy. Tried to wiggle free and in my mind I kept thinking, keep him still, have to keep him still. So of course, the dummy dum dum that I am kept holding him while he literally chomped on my thumb, his fangs going all the way through about 7 times...over and over again while Curtis is encouraging me to "Drop the dumb thing" as I'm crying for him to hurry. I put Kip in the bucket and he did his best to irrigate my thumb and wow did it hurt like crazy...but its cool, cause mom got there and the cat lived....for another 20 min or so. Good job Mar
Well, all was well until about 10 pm and I woke from an absolute dead sleep with this intense throbbing in my thumb. Like...holy crap it absolutely killed. To the point that I googled "cat bites" on my phone and read over and over to get into see a physician and get on some antibiotics ASAP. I thought...psh....please...how serious can it really be? Its a Cat-bite. I mean, really.
By morning, it was pussy and oozing....so I listened and went in. They looked at it, promptly gave me oral antibiotics with an injection and told me to watch it closely. Again, seriously people, its a CAT-BITE...I'm good. Well...Curtis called uncle around 11 pm when I had rapid growing tracks leading up my arm and said nope, game over, and took me to the ER where I was admitted for 5 days and one surgery, IV antibiotics later....I gained the most expensive cat bite ever. I was thoroughly humiliated with my welcome board saying "cat bite" on it for all the nurses and staff changing out to see. But, apparently it wasn't completely uncommon, the doc said his aunt had died from a cat bite and someone earlier that month was admitted for the exact same thing. I think people, like me, don't take it seriously until its too late and their fangs are covered in gnarly bacteria. Awesome. Noted
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