I wish I could say that I had been tramping through the desert to smuggle Bibles or to reach some lost tribe that had never heard the Story when the Devil appeared as a rattlesnake and bit me in order to slow the Ultimate Victory—but, alas, that is far, far away from the true story! The true story is much less dramatic than you might imagine, but for curious minds, here is what happened.
About noon on Friday, April 28, 2017, Sherrylee, Mr. Bingley, and I left by car for California. The three of us anticipated reaching Albuquerque that evening for the first stop on what was to be a fourteen-day road trip, including four days at the Pepperdine Bible Lectures in Malibu, about four days in Escondido, CA with our daughter’s family, and a couple of days in Aguila, Arizona with my sister Betty, looking at a family history site.
Our first and last “warning” came about 3pm, when we stopped at a very nice roadside park to let Mr. Bingley, our little Havanese/Shitzu mix, walk around and relieve himself. He has made this trip before and does quite well, with the exception that he can get motion sick, so we give him half of a Dramamine every 5-6 hours to help him out. Anyway, as we are walking around near the children’s playground area, there is a big sign that says WATCH OUT FOR RATTLESNAKES. I took that sign seriously, as I walked Bingley around. We didn’t wander off into the open grassy areas, but stayed on the side
walks until all his needs were taken care of. Then off we went again further along Highway 287, anticipating driving through Amarillo about 6pm.
At 5:30, we were about six miles south of Claude, Texas, and Bingley was a little restless, so we realized that he probably was about ready for another dose of Dramamine for his motion sickness. Everyone knows that pulling off on the shoulders of a small highway can be a little risky, so we decided to pull over where there was actually a small dirt road intersecting our highway.
I was amused because the name on this dirt road that did not seem to lead to any destination in sight was Hotel Road. We only turned far enough onto Hotel road to clear the shoulder of the highway, then we stopped, not fearing that we would be interfering with any traffic on this dirt road. I got out of the car, walked around the back of the car and to the back door of our four-door Honda Accord sedan. I opened the door to get Bingley’s medicine out of his duffel bag in the backseat, leaned in to get it, and
BAM! Something bit me just above my right ankle—and it hurt! I stepped back and looked down and there was a two to three foot long rattlesnake coiled and ready to strike again. I had already yelled, “Something bit me” and Sherrylee looked out and saw—and heard—the snake rattling at that point. I remember looking for a rattle and seeing it, but I never heard a rattle before it struck.
We must have pulled right up next to it as lay camouflaged on the side of the road. I had almost stepped on it without ever seeing or hearing it—which is why it bit me. Having seen all I wanted to see, I shut the car door and backed away very quickly. The snake slithered away also, but by that time, I had all the facts I needed: I had been bitten by a poisonous rattlesnake out in the middle of nowhere, so we needed to get somewhere and get medical help.
I jumped in the car and drove very quickly toward Claude while Sherrylee dialed 911. The 911 operator told us to go to a big gas station in Claude and wait and they would send an EMS team to us. That sounded like a good plan. I wasn’t feeling bad, but my foot hurt, and I was pretty anxious. About ten minutes passed, then the County Sheriff called to say that the EMS service was not the best idea and that we needed to get to the hospital ER in Amarillo! That was over 30 miles away.
Sherrylee told him that he needed to provide us with a police escort, and he agreed, so we waited just a couple of more minutes and a police SUV pulled in front of the station. Together we raced to the county line which was where Hwy. 287 junctions with I-40 just east of Amarillo. And when I say raced, I mean 95-100mph!!
The Potter County police were supposed to pick us up there. We saw them heading toward us but on the opposite side of the road. The police called us and said to continue, and they would try to catch up with us. They did not know, however, how determined Sherrylee was to get me to the hospital before . . . .
6:15 pm on the main Amarillo highway! You can imagine what the traffic was like, and it had begun to rain! Sherrylee, emergency lights flashing, sat on the horn and moved people out of
her way like her life—no, my life—depended on it, and we pulled up to the Emergency entrance of the Northwest Texas Hospital in Amarillo, the main trauma center for that region.
I limped through the emergency door straight to the desk and said, “I have been bit by a rattlesnake!” The nurse took my name and information, then made me a wrist bracelet and said, “I have already called the pharmacy and ordered the anti-venom!” That was a good sign! (Weekends can be tricky at hospitals, or so I’ve heard.)
The hospital staff proved to be wonderful and extraordinarily competent! We waited about two hours because there was no swelling in my foot. Did you know that about 50% of all rattlesnake bites are “dry,” that is, the snake injects no venom. Grown snakes can control how much they use; baby rattlesnakes can’t, which is why they are more dangerous. So the doctor held off on the anti-venom, hoping that it was a dry bite.
After two hours, my foot did start swelling and the pain increased immensely, so we started the anti-venom serum Crofab. It took about 8-10 hours to get the serum in and the pain under control, but after that it was just managing the pain. All to say that by noon Saturday, I was feeling great except that it was excruciatingly painful to lower my foot to the floor.
That became the big question: when they released me: how was I going to get around? By Sunday afternoon, the physical therapy team had been called for an evaluation, so when they came, we tried out walkers, then crutches. I actually discovered while we were testing this equipment that the longer I stood on my foot, the better it felt. Crutches in hand, I was discharged that afternoon.
Because of unbelievable weather conditions—snow, ice, and 60 mph straight winds in Amarillo—on Sunday, we had already decided to wait until Monday to return home. Continuing on to California did not seem like a very good idea.
Sherrylee drove us home Monday at a much-reduced rate of speed, and we arrived safely about 6pm, to be greeted by this sign by our driveway! It’s good to laugh about it now.
I’m very thankful to God for guarding us, to the doctors and staff at Northwest Texas Hospital for their personal concern and excellent care, and to Sherrylee for her love and attention, and for being an exceptionally strong and competent partner—for better and for worse.
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