How much would YOU pay to be bit by a rabid monkey: More good times in Phnom Penh

Have I ever mentioned how much I loathe monkeys?

In India, on an island just off Mumbai, a monkey once mugged me with a snarl for my bottled water; in Ubud, in Bali, a monkey lunged at me and dug his claws into my leg and wouldn’t let go. I wasn’t even teasing him with out of reach bananas like the other people in the monkey sanctuary.  It was spite, pure and simple.

Monkeys hate me. In Chinese astrology, I’m a tiger, and a tiger’s mortal enemy is apparently the monkey. I am rather inclined to agree.

I had finally recovered enough from my bout of inexplicable tummy bug to haul my exhausted, drained self out with Doug and his parents to tick off the sights of Phnom Penh. Bad move.  I should have known it would all end in tears- after all, this was the year that saw two of my laptops die in one week; this was the year where my wisdom teeth went apeshit on my jawline and wreaked all sorts of collateral damage; this was a year where all sorts of things had gone horribly awry. I should have known better than to tempt fate by going to Wat Phnom, the Wat that is at the top of a hill littered with wild monkeys. Yes. Wild monkeys. My favourite kind.

I steered clear of the monkeys.

I have photos of myself off in a far corner away from the monkey, petting a very nice cat whilst the other tourists took pictures of a rather photogenic monkey that was apparently looking after two kittens. Only after the monkey walked away did I venture near the kittens to have a look.

Did I mention how much I loathe/fear monkeys?

My nemesis and the adorable cats

So, yeah. Cute cats, no monkey.  I moved in closer. Aaaaaaaaand, yeah, the monkey leapt up from its hiding place and bit my arm, drawing blood from both tooth and claw.

Since I didn’t fancy dying of rabies on my holiday, Doug and I caught a tuk tuk to the local international medical clinic where I was lectured sternly for having lost my immunization records (they are somewhere in a garbage dump in Turkey, I imagine) and for having failed to have my booster shots for rabies, typhoid and diphtheria when my original vaccinations expired.

That would have been some time around 2008 when my yellow fever also expired. I’m a bit of a careless traveller.

Do you know what happens when you haven’t had your booster shots? You need an immediate round of immunoglobulin shots. How many you need is based on your weight. Oh, how I wish I could have been, say, 10kg lighter! If only I’d done a lengthy ashtanga yoga retreat before coming here, people really don’t know how yoga helps clear your chakras! I could have saved about $200– not that $200 is a big deal when your total bill comes to $1299 (including a nice, new round of typhoid and diphtheria and rabies shots!).

Here, let me show you some pictures to remind you to get your freaking booster shots when they come due. Avert your eyes if you can’t handle pointy metal things or bleedy bits.

There were about 12 shots in all: one on each shoulder, 4 or so around each of the two puncture wounds and another on each hip, just above the underwear line.  Apparently I was the bravest little soldier they’d ever had in that clinic when it comes to rabies shots as most need to be held down, screaming for mercy. I cracked jokes.

The tuk tuk driver who took us out there (and who took Doug to the hotel and back to grab my credit card when we found out what the bill was going to come to) told me that we foreigners were just wasting our money on these fancy, expensive clinics. Whenever Cambodians get bit by a monkey, he said, they just cover the bite in Tiger Balm. After all, tiger is the nemesis of the monkey just as the monkey is the nemesis of the tiger. No worries.

Click photos to enbiggen.  (No one needs full sized shots of needles, do they?)

Waiting for my 12 shots
Preparing the needles
Detritus of immunoglobulin
Needle #8 going in
Look! Bleedy!

And finally, from today, outside the Genocide Museum, in a charity gift shop for helping polio survivors, I met my nemesis again. A monkey in a wheelchair. This monkey didn’t dare bite me.

I put this monkey in a wheelchair for life! Ha!


24 thoughts on “How much would YOU pay to be bit by a rabid monkey: More good times in Phnom Penh”

  • I’ve been fortunate, a monkey only stole my glasses off my face in Uluwatu. Next time, try covering yourself in tiger balm beforehand–maybe it works like mosquito repellent.

    • Good idea! Or maybe drink a few Tiger beers before! Can’t hurt! Can throw the cans at the monkeys if necessary!

  • Omigod. This story has scarred me for life! I am so sorry to hear about your monkey encounter, but I feel your story will adequately clear up any ideas that people might have about monkeys being fun and lovable.
    Luckily, the one thing I am terribly anal about is my travel vaccinations. This is the advantage of being a scaredy cat. If I got bit by a monkey & I had to pay for shots based on my weight, I would be so bankrupt.

    • I used to be kinda vaguely sort of almost vigilant about vaccinations… then I just kind of let them lapse after a while because everything was going well and no one around me was coming down with cholera or typhoid and my cat wasn’t foaming at he mouth and Istanbul and Dubai and Shanghai and all seemed pretty…normal. So I got careless. You may be unbravegirl but I’m, um, InDenialGirl or laissezfairegirl or whogivesafuckgirl.

  • Oh my god! That is terrible! Did it really cost $1299? You are so brave!

    And for the record, I hate monkeys, too. This just gives me more fuel. I’ll hate them even more for you!

    • Yes, $1299. I needed 6 vials of immunoglobulin because I’m a big fat ass apparently 🙁 Actually, the $1299 included the rabies shot, typhoid AND diphtheria as well as my megadose of immune boosters. Monkeys=bad! Me=careless!

  • Woah, crazy story. Can’t believe you were actually bitten by a monkey. That suuucks – not as much as getting rabies I guess. Great blog though. Very entertaining.

    • Thanks! I’m trying to live down the fact that I was bitten by a rabid monkey– I have a feeling it may become a running joke among my friends soon enough!

  • I thought I read somewhere that rabies shots went into your abdomen.
    I guess you can console yourself with the fact that THAT didn’t happen. 🙂

    • That was the old way of doing it- they have new…stuff now. They do a number of injections around each puncture wound, filling the area with the immunoglobulin goop. I had two punctures on my forearm so ended up with two mounds rising up on my arm. They also do a few on your lower back/upper bottom which weren’t painful at all. Am very glad they stopped doing the stomach ones- apparently the needles were HUGE because the antidote they injected was quite thick.

    • Just preventative- the monkeys on that hill are known to be either rabid or carriers so the clinic was quite adamant about getting the shots done asap, just to be safe.

  • With you on the monkey fear. While I have not (yet) been bitten, my ex was the victim of a terrible scare in Malaysia. Emergency rabies shot equally, ridiculously expensive there.

    • I’m starting to think that, say, life in the Yukon might not be a bad idea. No monkeys there (unless there really are such things as Arctic Monkeys…)

    • Show them the needle pictures first! They’ll never want to go near a monkey again after seeing those (at least, I wouldn’t). Glad I could provide you with realia for a Teachable Moment!

  • Wow, this is both horrible and funny! And it makes me *even more* paranoid about monkeys. Do you think it’s a good idea to get rabies shots as a preventative measure? Right now I’m based in Seoul so it would be easier to get them done now than when I set off alone on my RTW — but not sure of the cost. Eek!

    • Oh, yes, get the preventative shots! I hadn’t realized it but if you haven’t had your preventative shots you’ll need the immunoglobulin if bitten– and that stuff costs (get this!) $200/vial based on body wight. Mine came to 6 vials. I’m not that big. If you have your shots up to date, you only need a 3 shots of Verorab (or a similar post-bite vaccine), which are much cheaper (around $20/shot, with consultation fees varying depending on where you go- I paid between $20 and over $100 for mine as I was in 3 places in Cambodia and then in Shanghai during my course of shots)- I needed 5 shots of verorab over 2 weeks in addition to the immunoglobulin– in total $1500. If I had known about the cost, I’d have had my booster shots!

    • The scary thing is, the immunoglobulin was only available in one clinic in Phnom Penh! If it had been anywhere else in Cambodia, I’d have been screwed. If you haven’t got your vaccine or the booster and you get bit, you MUST get the immunoglobulin shots (as well as the regular ones) within 24 hours or you’ll probably die. Seriously. The nurse there was furious with me for living in China without having had my rabies booster. And immunoglobulin is EXPENSIVE. And it wasn’t covered by insurance because it was my own negligence (no vaccination).

  • I hadn’t realized it but if you haven’t had your preventative shots you’ll need the immunoglobulin if bitten– and that stuff costs (get this!) $200/vial based on body wight. Do you KNOW the bastard was rabid or is it just preventative? And for the record, I hate monkeys, too.

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