Megs rescue enters final stages
The Wife came home from work and changed, and then we tackled the garage. No sign of Megs, of course, what with all the stuff stored in the garage: it’s a two-car garage, with my car on one side and lots of stored furniture on the other, along with bales of insulation for some project.
We took the 2 Million Power Flashlight from Black & Decker. It never states 2 million what, but it does cast a powerful beam, driven by a rechargeable lead-acid battery. I took it out fully charged—it’s the only flashlight I’ve had where I expect to turn it on and feel a recoil. But in 15 minutes or so, the light was dying. I guess they figure with a light this powerful, if you can’t find whatever it is right away, it’s hopeless.
The garage was hot (afternoon sun on the two doors) and stuffy—we had to keep all doors closed, of course. And it was quite dim: one 75-watt bulb for the entire garage, and that on my side, away from all the junk.
We started systematically moving stuff, cutting down on escape routes and hidey-holes, and The Wife was busily looking behind stuff. She did find Megs, tucked in behind some very heavy wooden boxes—speakers, but about 4 feet wide and 4 feet tall. (They were stacked, one above the other.) She tried to grab Megs, who fled past her to get under the car.
Lots of poking under the car, and Megs runs back among the stuff and just vanishes. We kept moving, building a barricade around the car with the bales of insulation once we were pretty sure that Megs was not there. Then more moving and looking. This goes on for about an hour, when The Wife once more discovers Megs behind the speakers, but curled up in a little niche back there, looking up at her very cutely.
So The Wife puts out her hand to get Megs, and Megs attacks. Megs is probably out of her mind with terror, hunger, and thirst, and she’s not going quietly. Once Megs bit The Wife’s hand a good one, The Wife figures, “In for a penny, in for a pound.” She knows that if she releases Megs, she still has the bite and will have to go to the ER, and we still have to capture Megs. So she held on while Megs struggled, growled, and hissed like air going out of a tractor tire.
I rushed over with the cat carrier, The Wife pushes Meg down into it, and I can’t get the damn zipper to work! Megs is struggling and scratching—and finally the top is zipped shut, with Megs inside and The Wife’s bloody hand outside.
I take the carrier into the house, leave Megs in it to calm down and smell the familiar smells, and we drive directly to Urgent Care (a doc-in-the-box sort of operation). It was, however, 6:18 p.m. by then, and Urgent Care closes at 6:00 because no emergencies occur between 6:00 p.m. and 7:00 a.m. when they re-open. I suppose that’s the theory.
So we drive to CHOMP (Community Hospital of the Monterey Peninsula). I start my stopwatch when we arrive. After 30 minutes, we get an admission interview. Then we wait. The Wife’s hand is bleeding and throbbing, but the ER is fairly full so we wait and wait. We left around 11:30. My stopwatch shows that we spent 4 hours 15 minutes in the ER.
When the doctor did finally show, we got good treatment — probably not so good as in France or Canada or the like, but still good. (I’m just joking: simmer down.) Her hands (she had only one bite on the left hand, on her index finger, but it seemed to be to the bone: that hand hurt worse than the other) were cleaned and bandaged lightly — so that they could take X-rays of the hands. (Sometimes a piece of the cat’s tooth will break off in the wound, which can cause even worse infections than just a cat bite, from which the infection is bad enough.)
After the X-rays, she got a tetanus shot, an antibiotic drip (took about half an hour), and some Vicodin, which quickly eased the pain. Her right hand was rebandaged more thoroughly—only a small bandage was needed on the left hand. We left for Walgreens, the only 24-hour pharmacy in town, and got the two prescriptions filled: an antibiotic for 10 days and more Vicodin in case of pain.
I take her home, and when I walk into the apartment, I see Megs standing in the hallway. “Meow,” she says, welcoming me. She followed me into the kitchen where I gave her a bowl of fresh kibble, which she sniffed appreciatively, and a big bowl of fresh water, at which she sat down at once and slurped away for a while. I dampened a towel and gave her a good rubdown, which she actually seemed to enjoy. Right now she’s sitting on the floor behind me, every now and then making some comment about her adventure—which I think was thoroughly unpleasant for her.
And tomorrow she has another unpleasant surprise: a visit to the vet, for checkup and shots. Serves her right, the little dummy. And that will complete the rescue—once, I suppose, The Wife has healed.
I’m very happy to have her back, she’s happy to be back, and it would not have happened except for The Wife, who understands cats quite well and knew that (a) Megs was almost certainly still in the courtyard or garage long after I had lost hope, and (b) knew exactly the sort of place where she would hide.
One lesson from this: even if your cat will be a strictly indoor kitty, she should get vaccinations on the assumption that she will at one point escape and be away for a few days, during which many things can happen. I don’t think Megs actually had any contact with other animals: the apartment courtyard is enclosed and I never see animals there, and the garage is equally walled off from the street with the doors closed. She probably spent all her time hiding here or there.
What a relief. I’m sleeping late tomorrow.
Hey! Congratulations! I’m glad you have her back. It’s been a good story, too, and all’s well that ends well.
Ben
13 August 2009 at 5:57 am
Glad Megs is back! Hope your wife heals with little pain.
Barbara D
13 August 2009 at 6:05 am
I’m so glad you got her back. That’s quite a story. And I hope “The Wife’s” hands heal quickly.
Wendy V.
13 August 2009 at 6:44 am
I am so happy for you all (and brave wife! good for her and I hope she heals quickly).
Another reason to have indoor cats vaccinated (at least with rabies):
Besides the fact that it is the law in many states, in PA if you indoor cat escapes and bites someone (other than the wife — who would never damand this), they can legally demand that the animal be euthanized IF it does not have a rabies vaccine up to date (even a day off) but cannot do so if they are up to date.
And if your cat is found without biting anyone, and you take it to the vet (or find it in a shelter), in PA there is a legally required 6 mo. quarantine (or else you have to have your pet euthanized).
I learned this on the last vet visit when my vet told me that if I thought I was going to be even one day late with the vaccine for any reason (I travel a lot in the summer), it is better to do it extra early for the above reasons.
TYD
13 August 2009 at 6:48 am
Reminds me of the time when our cat, Jonah, flipped out. We were having some remodelling done on our house. Having those strangers (he workmen) in the house was too much for Jonah. His eyes began rolling independently in different directions, and he made more noise than I have ever heard a cat make, before or since. I was finally able to get hold of the poor beast by crawling under our neighbor’s porch and cornering him. I took him to a vet, a nice serious man named Benson. While sitting on a bench in Dr. Benson’s waiting room awaiting our turn, Jonah kept things lively by crawling into the raincoat I was wearing and yowling his head off. People were staring. Finally we got to see Dr. Benson. I told him what was going on with Jonah, and that I thought that the cat was experiencing the feline equivalent of at least a nervous breakdown, if not a psychotic episode Dr. Benson clearly was skeptical. He looked Jonah over and suggested that I leave him overnight. Okay.
When I went back the next day, Dr. Benson said to me, “I can find nothing organically wrong with Jonah.” (That’s the way Dr.Benson talked.) I wanted to say, “Doc, the cat’s flipped out!”, but that was not the thing to say to someone as formal as Dr. Benson. The end of the story is that the good vet gave me some pills to stuff into Jonah until such time as he calmed down, which he did a few days after the workman had finished the job and left.
Good that you have Megs back again.
Jack
13 August 2009 at 8:08 am
Make sure you contact the Vets again and let them know she was found. They like to know that.
Also might be a good idea to go and get the signs back.
Books
13 August 2009 at 8:44 am
Nice
conservative09
13 August 2009 at 8:44 am
Happy ending =D
clockwisebluesmusic
13 August 2009 at 8:58 am
Contacting vets and taking down signs: absolutely. That’s on today’s agenda.
LeisureGuy
13 August 2009 at 9:34 am
Four hours in the E.R.??? Hey, you already live in Canada!!
Actually, I think the average here is probably somewhere between 6 and 8 hours, unless of course you are deemed an “emergency”, i.e. respiratory distress or chest pain. Then it’s really quick. And that pretty well describes the whole system in Canada….excellent care when it comes to anything life-threatening…pretty poor when it comes to chronic diseases and preventative care. Bypass surgery (2-3 days or faster)…hip replacement (6 months to a couple of years).
Here’s an excellent example. I had sustained many back injuries as a result of sports accidents and by my mid 40′s was pretty much in constant pain. I saw the chief of orthopedics at one of our University teaching hospitals and his response was classic:
Doc: “Can you walk?”
Me: “Uh…yes”.
Doc: “Can you work?”
Me: “Uh….I guess”.
Doc: “Good….come back and see me when you can’t”.
Swear to God, true story.
Seven years later, I began to develop a limp in my left leg. The EMG study showed that due to continuous friction of the sciatic nerve on one of the protruding discs, it had demyelinated and could no longer carry a full electrical signal to the leg muscles. It took two more years to see a neurologist, get the MRI done, find a neurosurgeon willing to do the surgery, and get wait listed for the operation.
Had the first guy started the process seven years ago I would not have a limp today and would be in much better physical shape because of the limitations on activity the limp imposes. This is perhaps the “poster’ story of how the system works up here. And remember…I work in the system myself so witness it every day.
Steve
13 August 2009 at 9:44 am
Yeah, if I were building a national healthcare system for the US, I would probably not use the Canadian model. I would look particularly at the Netherlands, France, Sweden, and Germany, and try to build a system that took the best of those.
LeisureGuy
13 August 2009 at 10:14 am
An excellent survey of various approaches around the world was done a couple of years ago by Frontline on PBS. You can watch it on-line:
http://video.pbs.org/video/1050712790/
It is worth the watch. It came out at the same time as M. Moore’s Sicko, but much more informative — a serious comparative examination.
TYD
13 August 2009 at 10:36 am
otoh about 25% of the people in the waiting room were people with non-emergency issues, and no insurance.
i did have to fill out a form for animal control describing the circumstances of the bite – hospital is required to do this for all animal bites. apparently the spca will follow up.
i have 5 working fingers, not all on the same hand…
the wife
13 August 2009 at 10:37 am
Many European countries use a mixed funding model of private and public care. A big part of the problem though, is that they are able to crank out doctors and other health care professionals pretty quickly and effectively. In North America we have a chronic and growing shortage of doctors, nurses, etc., because of the myth of our “higher standards” of professional competencies. This means that in the USA and Canada there are currently thousands of foreign-trained physicians driving taxis or working as pharmaceutical sales reps because they can’t get certified. The system here is largely set up as a “guild” or “union shop” meant to limit the number of health care providers in order to control costs and ensure high earnings for those in the union.
Regardless of how you try to tweak the system it is inherently designed through supply and demand to be self limiting. You will discover as you move into greater public funding of your health care system (if the forces of greed in the USA even ever permit it to happen….unlikely IMHO), that there simply aren’t enough health care providers to care for all the people, especially if you don’t pay them as much as they are used to getting.
In Canada, we have been squeezing efficiencies out of the system for years, but even so, there are nowhere near the number of docs, nurses, physios, etc., needed to care for the aging boomers. And these providers are nowhere on the horizon either, as the medical and other professional schools are hamstrung with severe quota restrictions the government is unwilling to ease substantially (because the government pays for their education too!!!!).
Ultimately, unless taxpayers are willing to foot a much larger bill, there is no real solution until the system begins to crack. No Canadian government is willing to say that however, because higher taxes are the eletroal death knell.
Steve
13 August 2009 at 1:31 pm
The US can easily afford a national healthcare system with no tax increase if we reallocate some spending. For example, the US currently spends on its military more than twice the combined total of military spending of all other nations on Earth. If we cut it back to spend only an amount equal to the combined military spending of all other nations. that should free up around $600 billlion a year. Source of info.
BTW, The Wife (a Canadian) read your story and countered with a similar story in the US about a woman we both worked with and who had full health coverage through the employer plan. She went with a complaint, was misdiagnosed, sent away, came back, and back and forth. Finally, they found a very aggressive form of cancer and she was dead within a few months. Horror stories about in all healthcare systems, but the US has more than most because we have around 50 million people with no healthcare insurance at all.
LeisureGuy
13 August 2009 at 1:41 pm
I do believe that Steve has it right. Having sufficient health care providers is basic. However (and I have to admit that I haven’t followed the U.S. health insurance debate that closely), am I wrong is saying that this aspect has not been a major issue in the debate? Why, I wonder.
Jack
13 August 2009 at 2:29 pm
It has been an issue in PA for nearly 10 years. I was skeptical of predictions of coming shortages when I last lived here ( mostly predicted by doctors who wanted malpractice limitations legislated). But when I moved back a year ago w/ a nice middle class income and good insurance, I got turned down by well over a dozen physicians who were not taking new patients. I finally found a new PCP in Feb. but the earliest appointment I could get was at the end of July.
TYD
13 August 2009 at 6:06 pm
There’s no question that HMO’s are a blight upon the landscape. There’s no way a for-profit isn’t in a constant conflict of interest with the well-being of the patients it supposedly serves. Nowhere is this more keenly felt than in Psychiatry and Psychology, where HMO’s are willing to pay only mere pittances for psychotherapy (and for very brief periods), while they are prepared to fully fund their Pharma partners’ products.
Steve
13 August 2009 at 6:53 pm
I should say that I don’t have an HMO (probably shouldn’t have used the term PCP).
Anonymous
14 August 2009 at 4:49 am