A friend dropped by the office yesterday and told me a story. Apparently their cat at one point got a boil on its leg which was big and puss-filled and ugly. Under the advice of their not-a-DVM neighbor, lancing it became the option of choice.
So he volunteered to hold the cat. The neighbor was the lancer. The cat was the lancee.
Can you guess the next part? The cat got lanced. The holder got bit on the hand. The neighbor got a heck of a show.
But the bite wasn't bad. More like a mild scratch.
Until that night.
At midnight, with a swollen, aching hand and streaks of red running up the arm into the shoulder, my friend thought it might be something worth being concerned about. After a few hours of pain, fever, nausea, and appropriate cat-cursing, an ER visit was made.
He had never heard of Cat Scratch Fever before, not even Ted Nugent's version.
Some IV antibiotics and a night in the hospital later, all was well.
It was too funny of a story not to retell, so I did. But there's also a moral to be had. Some of us think we have things in control when we have no idea what we're dealing with. And some of us think marks we have are small little issues when they're big, hairy, hospital kinds of deals.
Any application for you today?
But that's just me thinking thoughts...