The Time a Bat Pissed in my Eye

Take deep breathes and remember that clouds always pass to reveal a blue sky. Right. Sure. Andy from Headspace has clearly never been convinced he’s about to die in what I can only imagine is one of the most horrendous ways a person can depart. Rabies. Let’s start at the beginning of this adventure.

We were planning on heading to the Kinabatangan River for two-nights and three-days of roughing it in the jungle. A few days filled with river safaris, insects and a serious lack of air-conditioning. To begin our journey, we paid our second visit to the Orangutan Rehab Centre and patiently awaited our pick up outside of the Cafeteria. To set the scene, the pick-up time of 1 pm granted us way more time than what is required in this vicinity. Thus, the entire group are sitting in the shade outside.

It’s the middle of the day, it’s super bright, it’s excruciatingly hot. All of a sudden, a bat appears out of nowhere. Everyone turns their heads to look, as you would expect. It’s a bat which has appeared seemingly out of thin air and is flying around us in the sunlight. I look up and BAM. Urine. Right in the eye. The probability of this happening makes my mind boggle. I was wearing sunglasses and the urine hit my eyeball as directly as a fully intended eyedrop.

I immediately washed my eye out. Everything seemed fine until my mind began to wander.

If you can catch rabies from bats via a bite, surely bodily fluids straight into your bloodstream could be equally as detrimental?

A short google later and a quick phone call with the medical response team from my insurance company and my anxiety is fully ramped up. This is how I die, I think to myself. They’re recommending me to seek urgent medical attention. And get this. Because it was in my eye (rabies infects the brain), I get a whopping twelve hours to seek care, I’ve already wasted three precious hours contemplating the matter. Or rather, trying to behave like one of those non-hypochondriac types.

With nine hours to live, heeding the advice of the UK medical response team I head to the nearest hospital in Sandakan to explain the situation. We wave goodbye to our group and promise that if I’m still alive, we’ll catch up with them tomorrow. I am not over exaggerating when I say I was laughed out of the hospital. I’m in A&E being told that it’s probably fine. Probably fine? I don’t want to be probably fine. I want to be 100% sure that I’m not going to die thank you very much. The hospital doesn’t even carry the vaccine so begging will get me nowhere. The DR arranges for my eye to be irrigated (I think as a measure of goodwill) and tells me that if I start to develop symptoms I’m to come straight back.

Hold on. If I develop symptoms of rabies, that almost always fatal condition, I’m to come right back? Yup. OK. So… let’s say I start to develop rabies symptoms and I come right back. What happens then? Oh well, I guess we’d treat you for a while, but eventually, we would have to evacuate you.

Fabulous. Thanks Doc.

Out of A&E, Toby & Kerry are patiently waiting for me. I explain the situation to them and we decide I should call the insurance guys up again to let them know what’s happened. As much as the attitude of the Dr’s irritated me, the fact that they seemed so bemused by the whole thing had me fleetingly calm. I call up the insurance company and tell them what the hospital said, thinking they will grace me with some reassuring words like, “OK well if they think it’s not an issue, it’s not an issue, go ahead and enjoy yourself. Goodbye”. Instead, I’m met with a prompt message that they will get their agents in Borneo to seek out somewhere that will provide me with the vaccine ASAP.

Oh shit. OK. So we’re still doing this. I have about seven hours to live now. We go back to the hostel we had stayed at the previous night and patiently wait for the insurance company to call back with information. I won’t name them because I really want their money, but, after a chaser call, I discover they’re checking with their agents in Borneo Indonesia. A completely different country to the one I’m in. At this point, they ask if I have any contacts I can use. This would generally be quite a frustrating comment for someone in this situation, but as luck would have it, I do have a contact.

My contact Jo was an absolute star, she called a private hospital in Kota Kinabalu for me. She spoke with a DR who also advised me to seek medical help ASAP because even if the virus doesn’t develop immediately, it can incubate and rear its head down the line. He also advises that I won’t find the vaccine outside of Kota Kinabalu (KK) and that they have it in stock ready for me. That’s all I need to hear and on that note, Toby and I book the next & only flights to KK leaving in two hours’ time and head straight to the airport.

A short thirty-minute flight later and we’re in a taxi on route to the private hospital in KK. We rock up to A&E and guess what? I am met with exactly the same bemusement from the DR here too. Obviously, not the same DR Jo spoke with on the phone.

But… did the bat bite you? No dude but it pissed in my eye.

Did a DR tell you to do this? Yes.

Are you sure? Yes.

I think you’ll probably be fine. I don’t want to be probably fine I want to be 100% alive.

Fine, you need five jabs. No, I have already had 3 in the UK so I only need 2.

But if you’re already vaccinated, why are you here?

Face. Palm.

The DR tending to me does not try to hide his bewilderment at the instructions I have received following UK advice. You see, he has been to the UK and this wasn’t what he was taught. He makes a point of telling me this. Several times. I stand my ground and assure him that I want the vaccines and please can they just administer the first now. Another spiel and some huffiness and I’m finally receiving my sought-after vaccination. With a whole hour left to live!

Now I’m able to be a keyboard warrior I’m glad my memory served me right. This link is provided by the NHS and advises the same treatment as I received for this type of situation. In summary (and presently 2018), three vaccinations at home means any exposure to rabies requires two follow up doses of the vaccine (day 0 and again between day 3-7).  I guess my point to this post is that if you’re in any doubt concerning your health, do stand your ground. If someone told you there was a 1% chance that the drink in front of you will kill you, you probably wouldn’t drink it would you? Just as the staff in the hospitals were sure I would probably be OK, no one knows about a rabies breakout until there is a rabies breakout. I’ll pass on being the experiment for now.

After four hours of sleep and a return flight to Sandakan, we made our way to the Kinabatangan river for our amended two-day, one-night trip into the jungle. It was an absolute blast and we were so lucky to see Orangutans and Proboscis monkeys in the wild. There were plenty of bats too. Or so I heard. I had my eyes tightly shut.