Cat Scratch Fever

Back in the early 1980s, I was invited to participate in a fashion show. The show was being held at a Champagne Winery in the Napa Valley. I lived in the valley and worked for the local bank. The owner of the shop supplying the clothes asked people in different occupations to be guest models. I was excited and pleased to be asked.

We met with the store owner and selected several fashionable looks to showcase for the show. I remember I was to wear a cream-colored knit jumpsuit belted with a wide belt featuring a stone buckle. With it, I wore a necklace with a stone matching the buckle. Another item chosen for me was a mohair coat in shades of gold and cream. I would wear it over the jumpsuit.

Next, I was to wear a cream and grey suit. The jacket was boxy and the skirt simple and A-lined. It was soft and classy, and I loved it. There were two other outfits that I loved, and I was excited to show them off. The store owner also offered us a discount if we purchased any of the items we modeled. 

We had several practices, and I was excited for the show to happen. The setting was amazing, the clothes were fabulous, and I couldn’t wait. 

About 3 days before the show, I woke up feeling sick. Not just a little sick, sick enough to not be able to get out of bed. I was running a fever, and my body ached all over. Every time I tried to get out of bed, I would get sick to my stomach. I couldn’t eat, and I would get dizzy every time I tried to stand up. On the second day, I had to call the organizer of the show and tell her I couldn’t make it.

I was so upset. I cried and tried to figure out what was wrong with me. There was no one with me to take care of me. One afternoon, a good friend called and asked how I was doing. She had no idea I was sick. She was a nurse by profession, and she immediately came over. She fed me and helped me get around a bit. Her name was Marcia. She said she had not seen a sickness like this going around. 

On about the tenth day, I was walking down the stairs, one at a time, carrying a glass of orange juice. As quickly as my sickness had come on, it was simply gone. No fever, no aches, and I was very hungry.

I missed the show. The store owner still honored my discount. Several months later, I was on an airplane traveling back to Wisconsin for a visit. A lovely woman was sitting next to me on the plane. As we talked, I told her about my sickness, and she said matter-of-factly, “You had cat-scratch fever”. She clarified with me that I had cats. I laughed and said, “That’s not really a thing, is it?” She said it most certainly was, and all of my symptoms matched her knowledge of the sickness. 

Who knew? I had no idea that my precious cats, Amos and Andy, could be responsible for my misery.

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