Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Chapter Two: The Rabies Chronicles


Animal Control calls and I am downstairs preparing to lift weights to a 45-minute DVD, my day off. I hear the machine pick up ( I am a true Giegerich and I do not answer the phone) and something tells me I need to take this call. The woman I talk to is named Jenny. She does not sound like a Jenny, more like a Sal or Madge. She is straight forward and on the ball and despite her bad news I think I like her. They did not find the dog, she says, they went to the address and there were no dogs. The owner of the animal, the mousy woman from Sunday evening didn't look smart enough to lie. I don't understand the concept of lying. Why deny the truth? That just complicates things. I am naive, I know that, and I tend to believe in the goodness and reliability of the human race. I made that comment to my bro Davie and he said, "you would think Auschwitz would have changed your mind on that one." I was raised by good and decent people who don't lie. I don't lie. I used to lie, but as I got older it didn't make any sense and now if I try to slide a quick little white one past Big Dave, it does not work. I am opaque and transparent. Oh, Davie Gie, note the little bat on this picture.

Jenny also said that the police did not forward the information to them until this day - three days later. The victim has a 72-hour window after the bite to begins the rabies shots. That left me just a few hours. Dave is not happy and he calls the police to get an explanation. We had a new dispatcher and she did not understand the communications process, was the reason. Still not satisfied he went down to the station and received a different excuse this time, and no, there was not a new dispatcher on duty that night. Every time I start to gain a measure of respect for the Dubuque police department an incident such as this happens that sets me back again. I cannot tolerate these Rambo personalities that do not accept responsibility for a botched job.

I am put in the worst category that I can imagine a human being inhabiting . . . VICTIM. I don't make a very good victim and I like that about myself.

I finish my exercise DVD - might as well get the stress release, shower, put on the good cologne and call my doctor. I am informed that doctor offices no longer do rabies shots. I maneuver through the Dubuque noon time traffic and I'm back at the Emergency Room. And as you can see, this is the SERIOUS exam room. I have an actual mattress with linen sheets. This is a lengthy procedure. I need a doctor's order for the medication and then the pharmacy needs to mix it up on the spot because it's the fresh stuff that works the best. A really perky, annoying clerk talks to me about payment procedures - I should not be paying this bill and she uses terms like "daddy's little girl" and "my honey" as she talks about her personal life and I finally say, whatever it takes to move things along.

I know, I know. This is how an arm looks after a rabies shot. Can you believe I took a picture of this? How far will I go to attract new readers to my blog? Hey, it distracted me, give me a break. I am disturbingly like my brother who takes his blog camera into the shower. And you know who you are. Even I'm getting sick looking at this.

The first two shots I receive - one in each hip - will cause my body to be truly interested in creating antibodies to fight this potential virus. There 's 3 millileters of the thick goopy stuff in each injection so therefore the arm is not a good retainer. The needles stay in awhile as the syrupy liquid takes time to slide downward.

I realize now that this strange little lady probably lied about everything . . . about her dogs being up to date on the shots. If they were truly from an abused home who would care about shots?
Cowboy Dave refuses to give up and he is on Carter Road, the alleged street of the liar, knocking on doors, grilling the neighborhood. It's the cowboy in him and he is reliving his posse days.
I feel the eternal innocent. Sad person, tonight. I really need to see a movie with a happy ending. Suggestions, anyone? I have four more shots scheduled to complete the series. And as if that was not enough, this little eight-year-old bugger beat me in Monopoly in sixty-eight minutes flat.
No mercy.

1 comment:

MrDaveyGie said...

Ummm what brother would you be talking about??

But seriously, I would be more then willing to join forces with Mr. Cowboy Dave and find this idiot. How about a sketch in the paper, or at least a description in the paper of dogs and their moron owner.

Your concerned brother,