At 2 a.m., I heard a strange noise coming from the living room and hallway. I wanted to get up and check, but I was too sleepy and fell back asleep. The noise continued, so I turned on the light, got up, checked the living room, and listened to the hallway. Finding nothing, I went back to sleep. Before I could even warm the covers, the noise started again. I waited patiently for a while, then suddenly turned on the light and saw a mouse grinding its teeth on the bathroom door frame. Since the frame was aluminum, the strange noise I heard was the sound of the mouse's teeth clattering against the frame. I quickly closed all the doors and grabbed pliers and a small shovel to catch the mouse.
The mouse was hiding behind the sofa. I moved the sofa, and the mouse dodged and weaved. After a few rounds, the mouse panicked and darted past me. I quickly tried to stomp on it, only managing to step on the tip of its tail. Just as I was deciding whether to use the shovel or the pliers, the mouse, having struggled several times without success, turned and bit my heel. Startled, I lifted my foot, and the mouse ran away again. I quickly took out my face warmer and iodine to disinfect the wound, and asked my wife to search on her phone whether a rabies vaccine was needed. I continued to catch the damned "thief." The startled rat suddenly scurried along the floor fan and into the fan cover, which was covered with a plastic bag. I was overjoyed and quickly grabbed the bag, carefully using pliers to pinch the rat through the plastic.
After killing the rat, I comforted my frightened wife and children before heading to get the rabies vaccine. Arriving at the nearest county hospital's emergency center, I first asked the surgeon if it was possible to get it. The surgeon, drowsy, reluctantly said that getting a rabies vaccine in the middle of the night was pointless; I should come back after 8 a.m. the next day because a skin test was needed. I pressed further, asking if they had a rabies vaccine, and the doctor impatiently replied that every hospital had it.
I had no choice but to go home and arrive at the county hospital at 8 a.m. sharp to register. When registering, I asked, "Which department do I need to go to for the rabies vaccine?" The answer was, "They don't have rabies vaccines."
I had to take a bus to the county CDC, but the CDC and outpatient clinic are separate, one in the new town and the other in the old town, and they don't open until 9 AM. After finally waiting until 9 AM, the doctor said I should get the immunoglobulin, which would cost over 2,000 yuan in total. I asked, "Can I use my medical insurance card? I don't have enough cash, can I pay by card?" The doctor said, "No. Have you eaten? You can only get the immunoglobulin after you've eaten." I had to go get money, eat, and then come back for the vaccination.
The immunoglobulin can't be administered all at once; I had to come back in the afternoon, and then I would need four more rabies vaccinations. Exhausted, I returned home, and kept thinking about one question: "Where did the rat come from?" I checked all the possible places where the rat could have entered, but found no trace. The only possibility was that a few times, for ventilation, I only closed the outer security door when I went out, leaving the inner door ajar. The security door had a screen window in the middle, and the iron bars were very sturdy, but the screen window had a hole.
Now I finally understand the meaning of the word "rat thief"—it carries both contempt and hatred. Damn rats!
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