Let's ease into a new Prep School year with another episode of Why You Need to Learn All You Can About Medicine.
I’ve been working on compiling BYOB2E (Bring Your Own Bandages, 2nd Edition) all year, doing the easy work of organizing several hundred articles into a coherent text, while entirely flopping at every attempt to write the introduction. Nothing I came up with captured the essence of this text in a way that I hoped would inspire more people with a desire to prepare.
And then one of Blueberry Girl’s kittens came to my rescue. She took them with her to California where she was caring for her grandmother for a few weeks. As the kittens would be spending some time in the garage, Blueberry Girl (BG) dutifully checked it for mouse bait. Seeing nothing but a Swiffer mop pad in the corner, she let them loose and returned to the kitchen. Not ninety seconds had passed before an unholy convocation of chaos erupted in the garage with racket enough to alert the entire cul-de-sac. That wasn’t a Swiffer mop pad in the corner; it was a sticky glue trap for mice, and it apparently works just as well on a long-haired kitten.
In her rush to free Opal from the jaws of hell, BG didn’t think about grabbing a towel to protect herself. The entirely freaked-out kitten bit BG. Hard. And then immediately realized the error of her ways and gave BG an apologetic look.
But it was too late. The barely visible damage had been done.
Because she is my daughter, BG had been schooled on the hazards of cat bites. She called, hoping to hear that it was only a kitten bite and not that deep, so she didn’t need to see a doctor. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. I replied that she had no choice but to get into urgent care, since (against my advice) she hadn’t packed a medical kit for this trip. And since the urgent care was closing in less than 30 minutes, she had to get moving.
And this is where the adventure gets interesting.
The receptionist tried to dissuade BG from being seen since it would be $120 and “they wouldn't be able to do much for that anyway.” BG persisted that she wanted to see the doctor.
As an older white guy entered the exam room, she relaxed a little bit. He ought to be competent.
Nope. He scoffed and instructed the assistant to wash her little ouchie with disinfectant. Dumbfounded as the physician left the room, BG regained her composure and clearly conveyed her desire for an antibiotic. Out in the hall, the assistant relayed her message to the doctor, and BG overheard him reply "No!" in an irritated, "how stupid can people be" kind of tone.
The assistant returned, informing BG that she wouldn't be receiving a prescription. As BG was wracking her brains to figure out what to do next, she told the assistant, "I just don't mess with cat bites." That's when the doctor offered, "I could call it in but the best thing for that stuff is soap and water." BG said she would very much appreciate the antibiotic and thanked him.
He did not tell her what he would be prescribing; she didn't find out until she picked it up as soon as it was ready, 1.5 hours later. And then, because she was beginning to question the physician’s competence, she researched the prescription. Keflex. Not good. Keflex is not indicated for cat bites at all. She started taking the pills on the off chance that Dr. Mom and Dr. Chat (ChatGPT) could be wrong. She couldn’t do anything at that time anyway—the urgent care was closed and maybe there was the tiniest sliver of hope that the Keflex would work.
The next morning, as she was gently washing her hands, pus started oozing out. I suggested she call the urgent care office when it opened. As BG is a Millennial, she asked AI for the best way to present her situation over the phone.
“I was seen for a cat bite over the index finger near the PIP/DIP joints. I was prescribed cephalexin. Can you confirm this is the intended antibiotic for a cat bite or should it be changed to amoxicillin-clavulanate?"
Naturally, the receptionist said she’d need to come in. "So you want me to pay another $120 to be seen again?
“I’ll ask the doctor.” And the receptionist returns to the phone and tells BG that an assistant will return her call.
And the assistant actually does call within an hour. “This is a different doctor, so you’ll need to come in.” BG repeated the $120 question. The assistant relayed her frustration to the doctor. Then the doctor got on the line and asked what was going on.
“My finger is oozing pus.”
“Well, Keflex is our first choice for a skin infection.”
“This isn’t a skin infection. It’s a cat bite.”
“This is for a cat bite?!”
“Yes.”
“Oh! On the back of the hand?”
“Yes.”
“Oh! And he prescribed Keflex?”
“Yes.”
“Oh! Keflex isn’t indicated for cat bites.”
Each one of those oh’s suggests something not right about the treatment BG received from the first physician. Why?
- Cat bite. It’s estimated that 90% of cats carry the Pasteurella multocida bacteria in their mouths. Fifty percent of cat bites become infected.[1] According to one study, thirty percent of people seeking treatment for a cat bite are hospitalized.[2] Two-thirds of these people required surgery, and the average hospital stay was three days.[3]
- The tendons and sheaths on the back of the hand are poorly vascularized (poor blood supply) so they become infected much more easily.[4]
- Keflex is recommended for skin infections, not cat bites. It is of no efficacy against Pasteurella multocida.
While the second physician indicated that she wasn’t supposed to override another doctor’s treatment decisions, she agreed to make an exception in BG’s case. Basically, she was covering the other doctor’s butt. If BG visited another urgent care, the attending physician would note BG’s previous treatment, and the first doctor’s reputation would suffer among his colleagues. And we sure as heck would have been reporting it to the California Medical Board.
The lesson here isn’t to be afraid of cats. At the very least, our feline friends keep the rodent population (and some of the diseases they carry) in check. The lessons we should learn are:
- All cat bites must be taken seriously.
- Doctors make mistakes.
- For best results, become educated. You don’t have to memorize everything, but become familiar with your references and know how to find answers.
- And, before things fall apart, acquire the medicines and supplies your family may need. Be prepared to bring your own bandages.
[1] Should you worry about a cat bite or scratch, Cleveland Clinic, 3 March 2025, https://health.clevelandclinic.org/cat-bites-scratches (accessed 18 July 2026).
[2] S. Theimer, When cats bite, 1 in 3 patients bitten in hand hospitalized, infections common, MayoClinic.org, 5 February 2014, https://newsnetwork.mayoclinic.org/discussion/when-cats-bite-1-in-3-patients-bitten-in-hand-hospitalized-infections-common/ (accessed 18 July 2026).
[3] Theimer.
[4] Theimer.
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