cobra death

Being obsessed with poisonous creatures seems to have hit a new level of infatuation.

And even though I'm feeling sprightlier today than I've felt in a while, it's still worth mentioning that things with poisonous fangs intrigue me no end.

Having been in Cape Town two weeks ago, the deciduous flora coupled with the all-familiar snake-burrowing rocky shit, meant that amidst my immediate proximity – there were about at least five Cape Cobras nearby.

I could feel it. They were watching me.

I lurked far away in hope of spotting one from the safety of a balcony – but my mind wandered as to what a thing like the Cape Cobra could do to me if I was bitten.

This happens a lot. Like, two years ago – I contemplated for hours what it would feel like if a Boomslang thrust its fangs into my skin and envenomated me with its haemotoxic poison. It’s a particularly horrific death, where you bleed from all your bodily orifices including tear ducts.

My new What Would Happen To My Organ Functions If I Was Bitten By This Thing obsession is the cobra. Where I was staying was full of Cape Cobras, I heard. They practically own the garden.
Death by Cape Cobra is particularly nasty.

For one, if it bites you near the heart, you’re a-gonna within fifteen minutes.
That’s if you’re lucky.

They don’t spit, like most cobras. Their venom, injected into you by 100mgs per bite, is mostly neurotoxic, so you die of respiratory failure.
Your muscles paralyse, including your diaphragm, then you asphyxiate, then turn blue, then peg.

In addition, their venom is polyvalent, so besides gasping for your final breaths in oxygen-craving spasms, you’ll endure gangrene necrosis on your skin.
It doesn’t look very nice, and the area will hurt like a motherfucker.

In your coffin, your hand will be black, bubbling and falling off, which might upset the people that come to your funeral.

But get this: even if you do chance upon an anti-venom (which is your only hope), the bite will affect your breathing for as long as 25 days.
So you’ll probably need to walk around with an oxygen tank.
Unlucky.

Basically, if you don’t die, you’ll wish you had.

It’s a cruel, long, hectic snake – that has also been known to crawl into baby cots at night for warmth.
No kidding.