cat bite < hot dog

Old news, I know.

I got bit by a cat I was watching for a friend a few Saturdays ago. My first cat bite ever. And I used to have cats growing up. I have been scratched by scared kitties, and I have had cats accidentally claw me while jumping off of my lap, but until a few weeks ago, I’d never had a cat puncture my skin with its teeth.

In case you were wondering, the experience was no bueno. In defense of the cat who shall not be named, she was freaked out by meeting two new kitties. Before that, and while away from all other kitties, she seemed just fine, loving and happy, even. However, the bite happened while the other cats were in the room. Sure, they were minding their own business and keeping quite a distance, but nameless kitty wigged out none the less.  I thought she was moving her head in toward me to hide herself, but instead I got a tooth to wrist tendon. Crunch. (The sound/memory of the sensation still makes me a bit queasy, so I don’t know why I’m sharing it with you, dear reader.)

Jon of course suggested we go to the ER immediately. I didn’t like that idea, so I did all I could to avoid it. I even called my friend to make sure his cat was up-to-date on her rabies shots, and she was. So I thought I’d be in the clear. I mean, I had a dog accidentally bite through my thumbnail and it grew up just fine within a few months. I learned that cats have these hypodermic needle teeth and dirtier mouths than dogs. Because the next morning the bite that I meticulously cleaned, disinfected, and slathered antibiotics on had become mucho infected. As in bright pink, hot, and puffy going half-way down my forearm. Oh yes, I also experienced waves of nausea not associated with me just being grossed out. Not cool. (The doctor I saw said (in slightly different terms) that having some gross infection spreading down your arm and into lymph nodes can make you feel like you need to upchuck.)

After reading online about how nasty cat bites can be and having Jon fret over my arm, I was lovingly taken to Urgent Care. Three hours, two shots (0ne for tetanus, one some heavy antibiotic concoction), a pill for nausea (one usually given to chemo patients), a round of giant antibiotic pills, and somewhere in the ballpark of $400 later, I was on my way to mending.

With my arm all bandaged up and pills in hand walking away from the pharmacy, I looked over to Jon and said, “I’m sorry I’m such an expensive girlfriend.”

To which he replied, “It could have been worse. And it was still cheaper than a hot dog.”

What he meant, of course, was not just “a hot dog” but a very specific one. He was referencing our mutual friend who had problems swallowing his Costco lunch. He went to the ER where he had instruments crammed down his throat to break up the offending beef. Apparently his ordeal cost him more than my engagement ring and cat bite put together. That’s a lot to spend on a meal you don’t get to digest.