Cat scratch fever. Ever heard of it?
I had it.
And I’m not referring to the album by Ted Nugent. My severe neglect of the blog recently (thanks to those of you who hung in there and didn’t give up on me!) is due in large part to the fact that I got bitten by a kitten a few months ago. No, it wasn’t Walli or Stormi or even the stray kitten I fostered for a while (who recently met an uncertain fate at the local animal shelter, I am sad to report) – but quite possibly one of her littermates. This was a feral kitten, small enough to be unable to get out of the empty waste can it had gotten stuck in, but big enough to have learned how to utilize all its weapons. As I reached my ungloved hand in to fish it out it out it growled, snarled, then attacked ferociously, again and again.
I, being the macho super(hero)woman I clearly think I am, was not about to be deterred by a few scratches and a couple of puncture wounds and kept at it until I managed to extract my bloody hand while clutching the squirming, furry fleabag. I stuck it in a box and did my duty – deposited the little menace at the local pet store, where a compassionate soul promised to deliver it to the shelter for me (OK, don’t look at me like that – what do you want from me?! I already had three at home at the time in an apartment that only allows two pets, and a husband who was less than thrilled about having the role of zookeeper imposed upon him).
So, back to the story. A couple of weeks after the incident, I had a little bump form on my finger. It wasn’t until much later I realized it was the exact spot where the small beast bit me. I didn’t think much of it, but when I discovered a lump in my armpit while on vacation in Norway another few weeks later, I was naturally alarmed and went to a doctor to get it checked out. He sent me to the hospital for a needle biopsy, but fortunately, all the tests came back negative; they told me it was just an enlarged lymph node, albeit giving no definite answer as to what was causing the enlargement.
The lump kept growing and becoming increasingly painful. Upon returning to the U.S., I went to my primary doc and she diagnosed me with: you guessed it. Cat-Scratch Fever or Cat Scratch Disease (CSD). This is a bacterial infection that is usually introduced by the bite or scratch of a kitten. An inoculation lesion forms on the spot the bacteria was introduced (usually on a finger or hand) and the infection eventually settles in one of the lymph nodes. It is most often seen in children, since they’re more likely to play with kittens (what can I say, I’m such a kid when it comes to animals). The disease is usually benign and typically resolves itself without any medical intervention. The doc sent me home with an antibiotic and instructions to come back if it didn’t get better after two weeks.
After just a few days the shooting pains were getting so intense I called the doc’s office again to see about getting something for the pain. The antibiotic seemed to have no effect whatsoever. She had me come back in and stuck a needle in it to see if there was any liquid. Was there ever. She drained out a huge syringe full of puss! It was nasty. A large abscess had formed and I got a shot of antibiotics, a prescription for a stronger antibiotic, and some pain pills. She also told me she didn’t think this would get any better by itself and recommended removing the whole thing. She called a surgeon who agreed to see me the same day – and he concurred: the thing should come out and fast.
Surgery was scheduled for the following week, and over the weekend the pain became excruciating. The lump was the size of a golf ball now and I walked around with my arm at a funny angle away from my body, as any pressure would intensify the pain. I kept popping pain pills, and the day before the surgery the thing started draining itself. It freaked me out at first as blood started seeping out from the center of the abscess – but when I called the nurse she said it was a good thing. The draining relieved some of the pressure and by the next day the pain was not quite as intense.
The surgery went well, and I am now recovering. Due to the infection in the wound, the surgeon was unable to stitch up the incision because of the risk of contamination that would hinder the wound from closing properly. He closed up one side and left the rest open to drain, and told me it would close up from the inside out. I now have a deep hole under my arm (it looks like someone stabbed me) that is slowly getting shallower and smaller. It sure is taking its sweet time, but at least it is healing. The surgeon suggested that the infection in the lymph node might have been introduced by the needle biopsy I had performed in Norway. He didn’t want to point any fingers, but emphasized that any time you stick a needle in something, there is always the risk of infection.
How’s that for irony? Had I left it alone, most likely it would have resolved itself and disappeared after a while. But I would have been left wondering if it was something serious, and the not knowing can often be worse than knowing something bad. So I chose to mess with it and it turned from something innocuous into something far more severe. But again – had it been something serious to begin with, I am sure I would be glad I had found out at an early stage.
Emotional wounds can work the same way. Just like the tiny bump on my finger was representative of a larger problem within my body, which later was expressed by a much more severe bump, the signs we exhibit on our (sur)faces often diminish the larger truth about our emotional wellbeing.
People can, through no fault of their own, be introduced to an infection of the soul. Sheer proximity can spread the infection to those around, and if there is insufficient space between two individuals, reciprocal infection occurs. Sometimes the pain gets so intense the object of ones infection has to be removed completely, leaving an open hollow to heal from the inside. Hopefully, by the time the empty space has healed up, the object itself has healed too, providing a cleaner environment for healthy interaction.
