“Snake. It bit me. It’s a rattler.” We were two Wisconsinites hiking the Hawes Trail north east of sunny Phoenix, AZ in March when my husband yelled those words. He came charging back up the trail. Thinking a herd of serpents were chasing him, I started running myself.
But, brave woman that I am, I stopped. Dan is yelling I should bite his ankle and suck out the venom. I’m yelling I need to call 911. He swore he would die if I didn’t; so, like John Wayne playing Rooster Cogburn in True Grit, I skipped the biting, sloshed the bleeding fang marks with my water bottle, sucked like hell and spit like a nasty llama. Twice.
After washing out my mouth, I scrambled for my cell phone. Shouting at Dan to sit down on a big rock and stay calm, I hit that Emergency Call button. Service! A woman answered and requested facts as in trail, location, phone number, age, breath rate and wound appearance. She put me on hold but returned in seconds reporting a firetruck, ambulance and sheriff’s car were on the way. We could see about three football field lengths as the crow flies to the road and parking area.
Sirens wailing and lights flashing, I spotted them so I started jumping and waving. The parade zoomed right past the parking lot. “Stop them,” I cried to the operator. She put me on hold and soon we heard them doing a U-Turn. They found the parking lot.
It’s time to pick your Milwaukee favorites for the year!
Think a scene from Apocalypse Now with soldiers waving in the choppers. I’m jumping and swinging my vest in circles over my head. Dan is seated looking glumly across the valley. The EMTs line up in front of the fire truck and glass the rocky, cacti laden terrain. They spot me!
Despite the rough trail, three EMTs hot footed in with heavy packs. They took his vitals and determined the helicopter could not land. Dan felt strong so the five of us hiked out to the emergency vehicles.
He was quickly transported to the waiting helicopter a mile down the road. A handsome, uniformed pilot greeted us. “Hi; I’m Captain Kirk; we’re gonna take care of you.” Dan replied, “If you’re Captain Kirk, I’m the Easter Bunny.” Captain Kirk and Nurse Diane got him situated and started anti-venom injections. With Dan’s leg propped up, they whirled off. I walked back to the car and used GPS to find the hospital.
Luckily, Arizona has snake bite specialists. After two nights in the hospital, blood tests and all the pain killers he wanted (pain and swelling are trademarks of rattler bites), he was released. The pain dissipated over a three-week period and swelling in about six. We are grateful.
Somewhere along the Hawes Trail is a sunbathing rattler dreaming about terrorizing tourists.
Wisconsin has rattlers, too so here’s some advice: If you are ever bitten, don’t imitate Rooster Cogburn and me. Doctors don’t approve. Get to a hospital quickly or call for EMTs. Not all hospitals store anti-venom but the search for the nearest can be started quickly.
