Maybe this is why rabies vaccine for humans gets a bad name: the nurse comes and dumps an armload of needles on the tray. Sorry for the blurring photo but i think my hands were shaking.
It turns out to be not as bad as the urban legend. Seven shots yes, but not long needles in the stomach. It seems they want to inject into muscle tissue and, I’m sad to report, there is little of that in my abdomen area. So two sticks in each thigh, one in each arm, and one more in the butt for good measure. I have 3 more follow-up visits and it’s done!
This whole thing came about because this little guy zoomed into my RV up at a campground in Tahoe.
I didn’t know it at first. I thought the silent dark glider that went in the open window was a moth. Other people said it was a bird. I left the windows open a good time, didn’t see anything when i looked around, and forgot about it.
Next day the poor sick bat was lamely trying to get out the “kitchen window”. I left quietly, shutting the camper door behind me. Left my phone inside though. D’oh!
Many thanks to the animal control office who caught the bat and brought it in for testing. Unfortunately, it came back positive for rabies.
Since we both spent the night in the bat cave, the health department recommended vaccine for me. Here is the bat cave above the cab:
And my rented “batmobile”:
Before the health department caught up to me, I had researched the bat as my Native American totem. Various web pages said the bat was viewed as a source of intuition and a symbol of rebirth.
In a shamanic culture, my brush with the bat might be regarded as good fortune and an opportunity to see more of the world beyond this one. So what if it ended in madness and death. We all die anyway.
Being of this culture, and not at all ready to step through the doorway to the next world, I took the shots and (I hope) shut down the possibility of any altered bat states.
Right now, I’m just hoping my superpower will be immunity to rabies.