comedy tragedy time

Comedy = Tragedy + Time

So, I'm $350 poorer and can't have beer for another four days.

Friggin cat.

Five days after the war.

Pretty, isn't it? And that's after several days of antibiotics. I had

heard that cat bites are exceptionally nasty. Turns out 40% of cat

bites end up requiring medical attention.

So, let me show you my week...

Time zero.

This is about an hour after the bite. Shine pierced my finger in a

number of places but the worst were his upper incisor penetrated to

the bone on the side of my finger (small bloody spot) and a lower

incisor punctured the middle pad of the same finger also down to the

bone (not shown). The second puncture was significantly more painfull

as it went straight through muscle.

Turns out Misseswether had secretly prepared hydrogen peroxide,

antibiotic cream and bandages before I ever started the cats' bath

water. After prying the cat off my finger we immediately washed the

bites with the hydrogen peroxide, then soap and water. After finishing

up with the cats we rewashed the wounds with the hydrogen peroxide,

soap/water, then smeared it with triple-antibiotic cream and bandaged

everything up. The finger was a little swollen and already very

tender.

The next morning it was very swollen and VERY tender. Misseswether

wanted me to go to the doctor but, well, I'm a guy...I didn't go when

I dislocated my shoulder (don't ask), why would I go for a measely cat

bite?

The next day (less than 48 hours since the bite) I begged my doctor to

see me. Imagine a finger twice it's normal size, purple, and feeling

like it was filled with fire ants. For those of you who don't know

what what fire ant bites feel like, imagine a finger soaking in acid.

Yeah, it's like that. The areas around the punctures had turned a

lovely shade of black.

My doc gave me a shot of penicillin in the @ss (actually, his really

cute nurse did!) and wrote me a 10-day prescription for Augmentin (a

penicillin derivative). He also warned if it got worse to come back

immediately.

Day 4, 6am in the morning.

I'd been on the anitbiotics for a day and a half. No reduction in

swelling. No change in the finger's size, color or pain. Friggin cat.

Day 4, 6pm in the evening.

During the day the finger got progessively worse. Remember the fire

ants? Now they were giant, mutated radioactive ants armed with lemons

and broken glass.

And I couldn't have beer!

Day 5. Ugly!

Yep, this is where you came in. It's such a good photo I had to show

it twice! I spent Saturday morning in the emergency room waiting for

my name to be called. The doctor had a wonderfully sadistic time

lancing the wound and squeezing the pus out. According to him, the

pressure of the pus pocket sealed off the capillaries supplying blood

to my finger.

This is a bad thing.

After releasing the pressure(!) the blood could flow again, bringing

the oral antibiotic to the site of infection. Gee, who would have

thought squeezing a swollen, purple member of a man's body until white

liquid squirts out was an reccomended medical treatment?

Keen observers will notice this is my LEFT index finger. Yep, you

guessed it, I'm left handed. Want to try something fun ("fun" being

used in the sense of "fun for other people")? Change a baby's

explosively poopy diaper with the index finger of your main hand stuck

straight out and covered with wounds.

Stupid friggin' cat.

Day 6. The antibiotic is finally working. The swelling started to go

down and the pain dropped back to non-mutant ant levels.

Day 7, with continous drainage.

Note: Shine in the background, still alive.

So anyway, that was my week. Assorted punctures, fluids, doctors, and

ample use of the credit card.

And no beer.

Adventure! Excitement! Hot blond nurse rubbing my @ss!