Do not hunt for a copperhead while wearing flip flops. That was the lesson I learned five years ago.

It was the summer of 2012. We had just returned home from dropping our friend Morgan off in DC. I was in the house and heard Miles, our Jack Russell, barking like a mad dog outside. I went out to investigate, and lo and behold, he was barking at a copperhead snake from about three feet away. The copperhead was near a woodpile by our garage. I called Miles to no avail as he continued to bark and stomp at the snake, but at least he didn’t go closer. I ran in the house, got a leash and came back outside. I approached Miles from the side, where I was able to get him on the leash.  

After locking Miles in the house, I quickly went back outside. The snake had all but disappeared, slithering under the woodpile. I saw the end of it’s tail, quickly grabbed a hoe from the garage, and started moving pieces of wood aside to see if I could find it, and kill it. No snake. It had gone deep into the pile and was not to be seen. I poked, and moved logs to the side, all to no avail. Finally, I gave up, and went in the house.

Later that night, about 10PM, it was time for bed. I was about to let Miles out, when I thought to myself “Ya know, I should check to make sure that snake isn’t out there. I don’t want Miles tangling with it”. So, I put on my flip flops, went out through the back door and crossed the garage, intending to get the hoe from the corner of the garage. As I was about to pick up the hoe, that’s when it happened. There was a severe stabbing pain in my left foot. I flipped on the light and there was the snake coiled up INSIDE the garage next to the hoe, getting ready to strike at me again. I took two wacks at the snake with the hoe, and then started hopping around the garage on one foot, cursing and yelling.

Cathy came to the back door “Are you OK”? …  “No I’m not OK, I just got bit by a F’ing Copperhead”!! I proceeded to yell, hop, and conjugate the F-bomb about 52 different ways. Verb, noun, adverb, adjective – I was yelling all the best phrases from my Army days. Cathy, cool as a cucumber, got me inside and sitting down. By now, my foot was on fire. Think of a hornet sting, and multiply by twenty. We talked back and forth, and as my foot started to swell, she decided to call 911 (Later, she described me as being somewhat whiny at the time).

The ambulance actually showed up quickly, probably no more than 15 minutes after we called. They asked what happened, looked around for the snake, and said they couldn’t find it. In the meantime, they started loading me in the ambulance. My foot was swelling more and they asked what kind of snake. “Copperhead“, I said. “Are you sure“? they asked. “Definitely“. They put a mark on my foot/leg so they could tell how far the swelling was going up my leg. As we drove to town, one of the EMTs said “Well this is unusual. We don’t see this very often“. And I said “Snake Bites“? He answered, “oh no, we see lots of snake bites, but it’s usually in the woods and the victim is drunk“. We drove on. The punchline from a joke about a rattlesnake bite in a sensitive spot, “sorry, you’re going to die” floated through my brain…..

We get to the hospital, and go to the emergency room. More markings on the leg, as the poison continues to rise. Then, there are more questions about what kind of snake. I assure them it was a copperhead. My foot, and the bottom part of my leg are totally on fire, but I can’t have any painkiller yet, as they are still assessing the situation. At that point, the most interesting exchange of the night takes place.

“Do you want us to give you the anti-venom”? ….. “Yes”, I answer.

“Are you sure”? ….  “Yes”, I answer.

“The reason we are asking is that some people have a reaction to the anti-venom. Are you sure you want it”? ….”Yes, definitely”.

“OK. We’ll give it to you. We also have the anti-anti-venom here, in case you need it”.

More leg markings, and finally, about 1 1/2 hours after I was bitten, they give me the anti-venom. After 15 minutes or so, when I’ve shown no adverse reaction to it, they also give me something to lesson the pain. The swelling continues to rise, but now at a slower pace. It finally crests about an hour later.

I ended up spending two nights in the hospital. Normally, it would have been one, but it turns out that I also went into AFIB from the snake bite. When the AFIB didn’t go away on the second day, they paddled me to get my heart beating right again, and I was finally able to go home. During this time I learned that people rarely die from copperhead bites, but the skin can burst open from the swelling. I think getting the anti-venom was definitely the right decision.

The pain and swelling remained for about a week, and I hobbled around on crutches or a cane. I finally moved the entire wood pile a few days later, but the snake wasn’t there. We killed a copperhead about a month later near the barn, but have no idea if it was the same one.  

I’ve told the story over the years and it always gets some gasps and some chuckles. People always laugh at the thought of copperhead hunting while wearing flip flops, and I laugh along. It makes a great story, but I’m not sure it was worth the trade off….