you wouldn't believe me anyway

 I'm not going to bother going into to many details, because it's almost unbelievable anyhow - but this week ends with five of us in the ER - none of them Rico.

It begins on Monday - I have a numb lip, tingly fingers. I call the clinic to make an appointment but they won't do that because my symptoms seem "stroke-like". Yes, they do, but I've been here before and am quite certain I'm fine, but after coercing from the triage nurse, I end up at the local hospital. I'm just out of adrenaline - they give me steroids - I perk up in a day or two.

Which is just in time to meet Kaia, who has been loaded into an ambulance at a nearby park. Kaia has struggled with a diagnosis of Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome (P.O.T.S.) since 6th grade. But this time it's a bit worse. She was at a formal chamber of commerce event in her crown, banner and full dress up gear when she passes out and stays unconscious for about 45 seconds. Thankfully two people caught her before her face hit the table. She came to and was loaded into an ambulance. I met her there and took her to the hospital, where they were finally able to diagnose the P.O.T.S. with certainty. She was, scared, slightly humiliated, but ok. They basically prescribed a large bag of chips, gatorade and a nap.

She takes the nap. She actually takes the next couple of days off - she's planed to head to a cabin in Duluth with her boyfriend and his family. She takes off on Saturday.

With Kaia gone, Noah's got some free time and a basement to himself, so he invites his good friend Matthew over for a night of pizza and video games. 

All is well until Sunday morning. As I'm returning Rico's med box to the kitchen something comes flying at my face. Something bigger than that fly I've been trying to destroy since Thursday. At first I think it's the baby bird that Nika and her friend rescued the day before, and I think how sweet it is is that he's come to thank her, yet in the same breath I'm wondering a) how he knows where we live b) how he got in without a key and c) why the damn hell he looks like a bat.

Oh.

Because he is.

He is a bat.

And he's after me.

I don't say this in one of those "exaggerate for the sake of a good story" kind of ways. I am running circles around our living room, dining room and kitchen, and he's following me - diving me. I duck - he ducks, I roll, he rolls. It's like he's been training with the goddamn blue angels for this very moment. For lack of absolutely any other resource I start screaming. As a sign of how absolutely "done" everyone in our family is - nobody responds. Nobody. 

Finally Nika mutters a sleepy "what?" 

I manage to scream "BAAAAATTT!" Just as the thing goes diving into our bedroom where both Rico and Neeks happen to be sleeping. Suddenly the tables are turned.

The thing sits down on Rico's chest, staring at him, daring him to move (oh the irony). Suddenly I hear a scream from Neeks and a shout from Rico "Honey I got rid of him!"

"No, no dad - you did not - you just can't SEEEE him." 

I manage to peek my head into the room to see bat-lover Nika simultaneously enthralled and horrified. She's ducking under the covers as her father  who has somehow managed to wrap his one good arm into a king-sized-sheet, continues to flap it wildly like some massive pterodactyl mating dance.

"STOPPPP!" I shout - "what are you doing?!"

"I'm shooing it out."

"Out where?!"

"Yeah, good point."

I creep downstairs to ask the guys if they know how to catch a bat. They aren't yet awake, but throw helpful advice at me - something about buckets or bags or open windows. It all sounds good for a bat that is asleep. This one is not.

Back in the bedroom, the bat - which is sort of big for a house bat is hanging on the curtains guarding my cell phone like a minion of Lucifer. I do manage to grab the phone to look up animal control - but they're closed. This makes perfect sense because most vermin like to do their dirty work between 9-5 Monday thru Thursday.

I have no choice - I call the police.  I manage to give them my address, name, the fact that this bat is continuing to stalk my bed-ridden-hospice-patient husband. However, when Dateline does the expose' on this story and they play back my tapes, they will probably sound more like - "He's in the other room, and waaaaggggoooooooohhhhhhh! Sorry, he just mothergodhavemercy, yyyaaooouuugh. Son of a bitch! No - not you sorry he's just ahhhhhhg, ahhhhhhh, AHHHHHHHHH. Jesus on a cracker, he won't stop whhaaaaaaduuuuuuupppphg." 

Yeah - the little f-er gave up his roost on the curtains and decided to chase me around the house on the phone. For a full five minutes I am simultaneously trying to respect the life of all creatures, make a dignified adult call, keep myself from becoming a vampire and wondering if our house is built on an ancient burial ground.

Somehow I finish the call, the bat flies into the bathroom where I trap it. Needless to say, ten minutes later, when Officer Bart arrives, the whole scene looks much less traumatic than it actually was. He goes into the bathroom, scoops it into a bag, takes it outside and away it goes.

It was at this moment that the guys decided to reveal that they had heard it downstairs last night as well. So I call the clinic to see what protocol is regarding bats in the house. In our situation it's a round of 9 shots. Five the first day. So today, we were all back in the ER for the third time this week. In the exact same room each time. We'll have follow up shots over the next two weeks - but Nika is glad the bat did not suffer.