The other side of the story about the ruler of the Internet: Cats.
By Molly Oswaks:
Sunday, 4:00 AM: I’m at home. I’ve ordered nachos, delivery, and as I’m getting ready to eat them, my small cat Frances delivers a playful yet puncturing bite top of my left hand. I wash it off; I think nothing of it. I eat my nachos and go to sleep.
Sunday 10:00 AM: I wake up my hand hurts like hell—it’s difficult to move, without it hurting like hell. It’s red and it looks a little puffy. I fill a plastic bag with ice and wrap that in the towel, which I then wrap around my hand and I go back to sleep for a little.
Sunday 12:45 PM: My hand really hurts. Fuck. I try to sleep it off.
Sunday 3:05 PM: This is ridiculous. I search Google for “cat bite on my hand hurts”. All of the results to come up indicate the cat bites are terrible and I should go to the hospital immediately, which I think seems like an Internet exaggeration. But, then again..
Tuesday: I learn that I may need surgery if the swelling does not go down. At some point in the day I meet the orthopedic surgeons team; they wrap my hand and my arm in an Ace bandage in hopes that the swelling may go down, and they add a second antibiotic to my IV. Mostly, I sleep.
Wednesday: I wake up ravenous; I have been allowed to eat since 10:30 PM last night in anticipation of surgery, but they still aren’t sure if they’re going to actually do the surgery so I just have to wait. On an empty stomach.
Finally, around 2:00pm, I’m told that I definitely will be having surgery in about an hour. The swelling hasn’t gone down—in fact, it looks like it may be getting worse—and they fear that if they don’t go in and drain some of the swelling, the tendons in my hand may incur permanent damage.
this is a crazy story. but damn I have been bitten and scratched by cats so many times my hands are just tiny scar upon tiny scar. I guess I am just lucky.
Mind yer kitty bites, folks.