This summer my 26-year-old son, Bob was awakened in the middle of the night from a sound slumber in his attic room to the sound of squeaking and fluttering wings flying by his head. He soon realized that there was a bat trapped in his room and he was trying to escape the house Bob rents with two friends (the bat was trying to escape – but I think Bob wanted out also!). Since Bob has watched the John Candy movie, The Great Outdoors, he was well-trained to capture a bat and throw it out into the night to irritate someone else. This adventure led to much joking as to how the bat had arrived at Bob’s house and found its way in. The general consensus from his Facebook friends was that the bat had used public transportation since there was bus stop right next to Bob’s house and had just confused houses in the dark. Sounded plausible – so we went with it.
About 12 days later, while we (the parents of Bob), were visiting friends in Portland, Oregon, we started receiving strange voice messages and disjointed phone calls from Bob. He was in a panic and was convinced that he had rabies. Like his grandmother, he is a little bit of a hypochondriac and had been talking to individuals who had convinced him that since there was a bat in his room, he must have received a bite that he didn’t notice. Add Bob’s hypochondria to the fact that there was a rabid bat found in his neighborhood to the horrible information Bob found on the internet regarding rabies and you have a 26-year-old blubbering ball of anxiety named Bob! After all, the symptoms of rabies were anxiety, confusion, disorientation, nausea and thirst – which Bob exhibited on the twelfth day after his encounter. Of course, it was beside the point that these are also the symptoms of a really bad hangover – and Bob had been out drinking with his brother the night before and eating food from a gas station – the food from the gas station alone would be enough to give a person those symptoms!
Bob was determined that he needed rabies shots. He had called the CDC, every emergency room in Omaha and his doctor. All of them advised him that it would be in his best interest to get the rabies shots as soon as possible because “dying from rabies is a horrible way to die.” I reminded Bob that in Old Yeller, all they did was take him behind the shed and shoot him – and if necessary, we could do that to Bob. He didn’t think that was funny.
In the end, Bob decided to succumb to his anxiety and get the shots. It turns out that the only place he could get the shots was in the emergency room of one hospital in Omaha – which was strange since there are five hospitals and lots of clinics in town. It seems there had been a rush on people getting rabies shots because of an article in the paper about a rabid bat – go figure!
Since Bob had waited so long to start the series of shots (there are 11 of them) – he had to get not one, not two, not three – but eight shots at one time! One in each arm, one in each thigh and two in each buttock! Such a price to pay for a reduction in anxiety – and that’s not counting what the actual PRICE of the shots turned out to be — $7700!!! Holy Bat Shit!
In the end – Bob is now protected against rabies! Plus — as per Bob — one of the side-effects is that he is also immune to Zombies! So – the next time there is a bat in your house or a Zombie – you can call Bat Boy Bob and he will rescue you!