From the BMJ - Sept 2.
Crying wolf
At 11 pm, an ambulance screeched to a halt at my gate. Two paramedics, holding a glass jar at arm's length, climbed out and came up to the house. A local nursing home had an emergency and needed help: a patient had felt a sting while reaching into his bedside cabinet for his medicine and, on peering into the recess of the cabinet, had screamed "Snake."
The 40 cm serpent was battered into pulp, put in a jar, and rushed to me for identification. Poisonous or not, was the query.
Unwilling to seem nonplussed, I referred to the atlas of common Indian snakes and, handling a magnifying lens for effect, peered at the limp strip of flesh. Rat snake? Trinket? Cat snake? Keelback? Wolf? I flipped the pages of the book—aha, here it was, the Indian wolf snake, Lycodon aulicus. Those tell-tale eyes, like ophidian exophthalmoses. Non-venomous.
Off went the ambulance, siren screaming—my neighbours much impressed with the show. An hour later, however, the ambulance was back, with a white-coated medic.
"Reaction," he said gravely. "To what?" I asked, somewhat apprehensive that my snake identification was amiss.
"Anaphylaxis, to the shot."
"Allergic reaction to tetanus toxoid?" This was news for me.
"No, not to tetvac, sir, to the anti-rabies."
"Anti-rabies vaccine? A dog had bitten him?"
"No, not a dog, a wolf."
"Incredible, a wolf bit him too?"
"What do you mean `incredible'? It was you who said that a wolf had got him."
"Me? I never..." Then it struck me, those idiots who had come earlier must have reported back that I, the "snake doc," had said it was a "wolf."
"Never mind," the medic said as he left, "It's no big deal really; a bite from a snake bitten by a wolf, or a bite from a wolf bitten by a snake."
"What's in a name?" asks the Bard. A lot, sir, especially if you are a semi-schooled, snake-fancying doctor trying to school hospital staff on lycodons, not lobos.
Arunachalam Kumar, head of anatomy
Kasturba Medical College, Mangalore, India (ixedoc@hotmail.com)