Rabies? No Thanks.

Today I had the dubious honor of giving a dear friend of mine her last injection for her rabies treatment. Just yesterday I was commenting to Mark about my fears of a successful return to nursing if/when the time came.  It's been almost ten months since I've worked and I worry whether blood and guts would still be fascinating instead of creepy? Could I reasonably and responsibly assess a patient's status without missing something important? After watching a few episodes of Nurse Jackie, I was freaking out even more. However, in the time of need I was more than happy to help considering what she had been dealing with in Romanian hospitals.  Diplomats are really lucky with handholding when it comes to medical treatment, I will just leave it at that.  

My gal pal's story began 28 days ago when she was hiking in the mountains with her three year old while her husband participated in a mountain bike race. During her hike, five scrappy sheepdogs surrounded her, keen on protecting something or someone. They began attacking despite her best intentions to remain calm and fierce, sinking their fangs into her hips and legs. Despite all this whirlwind activity, she kept her daughter protected, hoisted high on her shoulders who thankfully didn't know what was going on. My friend is pretty amazing like that. I would have crapped my pants. Staying quiet clearly wasn't working, so the screaming began and it was only a short time later when the sheepherder emerged from the thick trees to call off his beasts. In the end she made it into town, tracked down her husband and drove straight back to Bucharest for medical attention where she was able to begin the rigamarole of rabies injections. 

A series of 5 injections for rabies precautions.
Back in the day, it used to be daily belly injections
over 3 crappy, long weeks.

Here's the coolest part of her story: despite all this trauma, (and believe me, she was bruised, swollen, and punctured EVERYWHERE), she still took a two week mountain bike trek through northern Romania with her husband and daughter. We're talking major mountainy terrain where sometimes the trails required more pushing than biking, and schlepping of two trailers worth of camping gear, food, and child behind them the whole time. If that isn't tough, I don't know what is.  It was admirable she didn't let that stop her. So with a few extra packed precautions and heightened awareness, they went for it and never looked back.

I was looking at the pink injection I was about to give, and admittedly my hands were shaking but I thought, "Big deal Schlink. It's just a freakin' injection and she's been through much worse. Get over yourself!" So I did. And it wasn't that bad. Just get back on that horse, because it's like taking candy from a baby... right?

Aftermath.