continued from PSF and Boo Radley

To Kill a MockingBat!

Chapter One: What's all the Racket

Chapter Two: Livin' with Boo

Chapter Three: It's a sin to kill a mockingBat.

This is the part of the story that really reminds me of the book. I can clearly see the image of Atticus in my head with a shotgun, armed and aimed at a dog foaming at the mouth wandering around the street. It's the foaming that scares me the most.

We were on the front porch trying to relax a little as the animal control officer drove up. She was really nice and said she was surprised that we were able to catch him. She went on to tell us that most of the time if the bat doesn't make it out of the house it just ends up dying somewhere and people find it by the smell. NICE! So glad that didn't happen here. We had caulked up the entire house (literally one of the rooms upstairs looked like my gingerbread house from Christmas covered in frosting) but I didn't care-I wanted no more animals finding there way inside. So Boo had no where to go except to torture us in the basement.

As she goes to leave she mentions that someone will get in touch with us in a couple of days.

"Wait, what?" I asked. "Why?"
"Oh, well, they are going to test this bat for rabies and will let you know if you need treatment," she was so non-chalant, like this is routine for her. Rabie shots are common amongst wild animal workers.
"WHAT????? Why would we need treatment?"
"You've been exposed if this little guy has rabies."
"Come on, he didn't bite us! (Images of Dracula popped in my head.) We would totally tell you that I swear! I probably wouldn't be living here right now if he did anyway." I was starting to get all hysterical again. My voice gets nice and shrilly when I'm panicked.
"A bat's claws are so sharp that when they fly by you quickly you wouldn't even feel it is they scratched your arm or something in the middle of the night while you were sleeping. Chances are you wouldn't even wake up. Do you notice any scratches on you?"
"NO!" I totally did have a couple on my arm, and had no clue where I got them. No WAY were they from a bat-I simply refused to believe this possibility.
"Anyway, bats don't come out during the day unless they are in the last stages of the disease. This one was literally going crazy when he fell in your basement, so my guess is he does have rabies--or did anyway. We'll be in touch." And with that happy note, she left.

Within a week the news reported findings of rabid bats in our county- and we get all the credit for it. Thank God the news didn't have our exact address. I guess the county is required to report these kind of things to the health department when they find diseased animals like Boo. It was so nice of us to find them for everyone else's safety and awareness. Glad I could help.

When animal control called us to let us know they were insistent on getting treatment immediately. (Because -- of course -- Atticus showed his big brave self by stepping in the street alone to face the rabid dog. Guess who is the dog in this scenario? ICK!) That was the first thing that popped in my brain when I took the phone call.

How in the world do you get treated for rabies? Will I foam at the mouth too before I die? I couldn't help but think of the most gruesome things.
The clinic they suggested was too far away to make all of the necessary trips, so we did the next thing and called our doctor--had to have him paged because animal control used words like urgent, immediately, and don't wait until tomorrow. Don't worry, I'm freaking out pretty good, no need to harp on the gravity of this situation--I'm not going to let Atticus get me! I wanted to tell them that but I didn't.

My doctor was clueless. He just said, "I've never come across this one." No kidding? "If the health department is too far away, just go to the hospital ER-they'll know what to do."

Great.

Off we go. It's about 6pm on a Monday night when we get to the ER for rabie shots. Boo is getting his revenge from the grave. See? It really is a sin to kill a mockingBat. Thanks buddy.

When we finally saw a doctor about 2 hours later, he actually laughed. Laughed right at us-because he thought it was so bizarre-and then I started to cry. I just wanted to go home and this guy is getting his comic relief from my horror story. Jerk.

Long story short, (well not really, oh well) we had to get the post-exposure vaccination which means we needed to get two doses that night and then come back on the 3rd, 7th, 14th, and 28th nights following. The first dose was the vaccination and the second was a rabies immune globulin shot as if we actually had the disease. The amount you get goes by your weight so I was lucky enough to require 3 separate shots for the second kind and wouldn't you know it? they didn't have enough left to give my husband his dose! He would have to come back. (*pre-exposure only requires 3 shots and they are not as potent as the 5 shot course--lucky us!)

We left that night after 4 hours and 4 shots in my derriere and about 40 people giggling about it. Oh and Nate had nothing except a sandwich he requested be sent down because we neglected to eat dinner before we went to the hospital. Good for him. He actually ordered food from a bed in the ER! The nurses thought he was just soooo funny. jerks.

**sigh**
Two days later I was back. This time they were ready with all of the globulin for Nate and they had they rest of the vaccination shipped over for the rest of our courses of treatment. We had to go to a special outpatient area upstairs so that we could quickly walk in, get the shot, and walk out. Unfortunately, Nate couldn't make it because of work, so I had to go it alone. The nurses upstairs in the outpatient wing were totally intrigued with the hot-pink serum that had arrived about an hour before I did. When I told them the story they were fascinated. Truly glad I could be so entertaining-oh you bet I was.

The shots itself were no big deal--they could even put them in my arm --thank God for that. It really was a pretty color pink too-a nice hot pink. It felt hot going in too-so weird. I left and told them I would see them Sunday (day 7.) They were very nice and it made the process a little easier, but I actually think they were looking forward to it.

Animal control called the next day to yell at Nate to get it done. Apparently the hospital also reports to the health department who has gotten rabies vaccinations? I don't know. I have no idea how else they would find out he hadn't gotten the shots though. He didn't go for like 2 more months, but he finally went. They were really upset with him and wouldn't stop calling.

In the meantime, I didn't feel so good on the 4th day. No big deal, but I noticed on that Thursday that I was a little achy and my arm hurt like I had just had a booster shot. Ouch!

Sunday's shot was more potent. The amount of serum increased as I went on--or just got stronger--I can't remember, but the effects afterward got worse. The nurses-again-were fascinated by what was happening to me.

That Monday I went to school (I taught 4th grade back then) with aches, chills, and a slight fever. I was telling my principal what had happened when the jr. high science teacher walked into the office (k-8 school.) After he heard my story he was the one that told me he saw the report on the news. Oh, great. Yeah, well, that was me--DuPage county has rabid bats and the proof was living in my attic--for weeks. Then he asked why I was at work that day.

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"They didn't tell you how sick you are going to get?" he was actually smiling when he asked me this. Again, glad to be your amusement! GOD! What is wrong with people?
"No, and how do you know? and HOW sick am I going to get?????" I was--again--starting to get a little shrilly.
"Welp, you'd better arrange sick days for the last two treatments. It doesn't last long, but you will feel worse after each shot, and by the last one, you'll wish you were dead." Fan-f'ing-tastic! "But it only lasts for a day or so, " he quickly added, and chuckled again as he left the office. I bet he doesn't get out much. weirdo.

It turned out that we had Veteran's Day off on my day 15 (and I did feel sick and achy for most of the day but it was manageable-like a bad cold that you can work through), so I only needed to use one sick day for day 29.

By the last Sunday on the 28th day of treatments and my last shot, the nurses said they would miss me and the hot pink serum. That's what they called me btw-the hot pink shot girl. Nice. I guess I somehow brought them joy and laughter with my miserable shots preventing a wild, serious disease. They were nice though-and like the people pleaser I am-I played along. **sigh**

The science guy was true to his word too. I wanted to die on the following Monday after my final treatment. It. was. awful. I could barely move. I literally didn't get off the couch from about two hours after the shot until bedtime the following night. I had never felt so sick in my entire life. Thanks Boo.

So sorry we killed you. Didn't mean to. But well since you gave me rabies and all, I guess we just had to--you filthy animal. But I get it. You don't kill a mockingBat. Lesson learned.

Oh, and because Nate missed the second round he had to start all over with the 5 doses and the big shots for that first visit. He got sick too. So much fun--good times.

So glad we bought this house. This is only one of about 9 MAJOR problems/accidents/acts of God in this house. Only one! 632 N Brainard needs to be condemned and torn down! Seriously. I feel so bad for the guy who bought this house from us-unless he has the money to start over.

We moved out about a month before Sophie was born, so thank the lord she never had to set foot in it. I'm sure I will get a chance to write the rest of the stories-and they won't be as long as this one, at least I don't think they will. Thanks for sticking with this ridiculous one though and seriously, if you have bats in your neighborhood, make sure there are no holes ANYWHERE around your roof.

Use this story as a warning to keep all bats OUT! You just never know!

Photostory Friday and Boo Radley

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

632 North Brainard was an 74 year old Sears Catalog home, The Vallonia, with an addition built on it sometime in the 1950's. This was our first house. The best part of this house was that it was down the street from the house me, my sister, and my mom were born in: 839 N Brainard-my grandpa had given the house to my parents, so my first house was on the same street as theirs-I don't know why that is significant, but it just is. Anyway, it was my dream to someday have my own daughter be born on the same street, and when we bought this house I thought for sure we were on the right track. Well, Sophie was created in this home, but THANK GOD she wasn't born here. Looking back on this house I realize that almost every story is fantastically funny, gross, ridiculous, or just plain stupid. At least to me. So every once and awhile I will, like today, throw in a story about the house that just wasn't meant to be Sophie's. Again, Thank GOD!
I took the picture below with an actual Polaroid camera back in 2001, and will use it for every story- adding a new element to represent whatever the story is about.......should be a completely full picture by the time I'm done! So here goes. Oh and this story will be broken up into 3 chapters (posted separately because I tend to be long winded)

To Kill a MockingBat!*

Chapter One: What's all the racket?

Nate and I woke up one night to the sound of very loud scuffling going on in the room next door to our bedroom. This room could only be accessed through a tiny service door in our closet and it gave way to an unused, unfinished attic, that had once been almost turned into an upstairs bathroom. You can imagine our surprise when we heard the sound of what we thought were a bunch of feet dragging across the floor. I was instantly scared, as I am the biggest chicken on the planet, and Nate just laughed and said it's either the wind or a bird. Oh My God! I made him check it out immediately.

Once he crawled through the tiny 3 foot door, he fumbled for the string attached to the light bulb. While fumbling, something did a fly-by close enough for him to feel the breeze on his ears, and close enough for him to abort turning on the light and run back to our bedroom.

"Yep, it's a bird," he told me. "It just about clipped my ear as it flew by. Totally freaked me out."

Great. So there's a bird. A bird doing fly-bys in my attic. Nice. OK Tweetie, game on!

Well, about two weeks later, Nate was on his way back upstairs in the middle of the night, (there was no bathroom on the second floor) when he thought he saw something fly through the living room. He told me about it the next morning, trying to be casual enough not to alarm me, that the bird has somehow made it out of the attic into the house. I got alarmed. Very alarmed.

One night not long after that we were watching TV in the family room when the bird decided to come on out for another little game of hide and seek. This time we saw it -plain as the couches we were sitting on-this was NO bird. It flew way to fast, but not in a straight line, and it's wings were crooked. At least that's what we thought. I had insta-chills and involuntary tears ran down my face when we realized we had a bat in our home. It was a bat. A real live bat, mocking us every once and awhile-literally playing peek-a-boo. OK, so Tweetie is renamed Boo. A real live Boo Radley in our own home. Good times.

Not really. I totally freaked out. I mean completely melted down. I couldn't stop crying and there was no way I was going to fall asleep. We called animal control and asked what to do. They said to literally sleep with a tennis racket within reach and keep the lights on because bats typically don't go in bright places. They would be there in the morning to help us catch it.

All night long the lights stayed on in the entire house. All night long I slept with tennis racket on my face like a mask. I'm not kidding. All night long. I was so freaked out. Thankfully, Boo was done playing for the night.

When animal control got there the next morning, they said that a bat can fit through a hole the size of a dime and can even hide behind a picture hung on a wall-they are that small. They have a wing span of about 12 inches though when flying. **shudder** So, they searched the house,but told us it was like finding a needle in a haystack. They took a tour outside and found a hole between the wall and the roof the bat probably used to get in. I have that spot marked in the picture above. They then told us, in order to find out if there was more than one! (HOLY CRAP), we had to watch the outside of the house and wait at dusk to see if any bats came out. More than one? OMG! They said if it was a colony, they would come out at dusk. (A colony is anywhere from 20 to 30 bats. Yes, that's right a small colony that is...20-30 BATS!!!! ~OMG again.)

Stay home to see if a colony of bats lived in my attic, or have a drink with my cousins at girls night out. Hmmm. Yeah. Poor Nate. He was sitting in the side yard, flashlight in hand, waiting for dusk as I kissed him bye bye--going to have drinks with the girls. He just sat there in a lawn chair staring at his own house. I can't imagine what our neighbor's thought of us. He stayed that way for 3 hours.

After all of this he saw nothing. No bats in; no bats out. We concluded no colony. Phew! But Boo was still there and still playing peek-a-boo. For two more weeks..........we started to get used to it....we even put the rackets down, and eventually I was able to turn the bedroom light off to go to sleep, but I always left the TV on.

to be continued.

*I don't mean to steal the famous title like I'm some sort of Harper Lee author myself, but every time I remember this particular story I think of the book To Kill A Mockingbird. I can't help it. There are a couple more references to the book as the story continues, basically just playing on the metaphor that the title itself suggests.
Every single story from 632 N Brainard is a true story btw; I'm not creative enough to make this stuff up. Scout's honor! hee hee