# Man Wakes Up With Bat Bite, Refuses Rabies Shot Because 'Vibes Were Off'
Look, I get it. Nobody *wants* a series of painful stomach injections that cost roughly the same as a used Honda Civic. But when you wake up to find a fruit bat chomping on your neck like it’s a spicy chicken wing, maybe—just maybe—you should listen to the doctors instead of your gut feeling that “the universe has your back.”
Meet Kyle Thompson, 34, of Austin, Texas. Kyle is currently the frontrunner for this year’s Darwin Award after he allegedly told ER staff he would “pass” on the rabies post-exposure prophylaxis because, and I quote, “the bat seemed chill.”
Let’s rewind. Kyle, a self-described “free thinker” and “very online” guy, woke up around 3 AM last Tuesday to find a bat latched onto his trapezius muscle like it was trying to ride a mechanical bull. According to his now-viral TikTok (which, naturally, he filmed from the hospital bed before the rabies symptoms kicked in), he initially thought it was his girlfriend’s new “spicy massage tool.” Spoiler: it was not.
“I was like, bro, what kind of Amazon gadget is this? It’s vibrating and it’s wet,” Kyle says in the video, which has since been deleted but not before being screen-recorded by approximately 14,000 people. “Then I turned on the light and this little guy is just staring at me. Deep eye contact. Very meaningful.”
The meaningful bat, which wildlife officials later identified as a big brown bat (genus *Eptesicus fuscus*, for you nerds), had apparently flown through an open window during Austin’s recent heatwave. It was likely just trying to escape the 104-degree bullshit outside. Instead, it found Kyle’s neck, which I can only assume smelled like craft beer and poor life choices.
Here’s where it gets good. Kyle’s girlfriend, Sarah, drove him to St. David’s Medical Center. The attending physician, Dr. Priya Mehta, immediately recommended the rabies vaccine series. This is standard procedure. Rabies is a virus that has a 99.9% fatality rate once symptoms appear. It basically turns your brain into a blender set to “liquefy.” There is no cure. You foam. You seize. You die. It’s not a great way to go.
But Kyle had done his research.
“I’ve been watching a lot of Dr. Berg and some guys on YouTube who talk about how the medical-industrial complex profits off fear,” Kyle told the hospital social worker, who later described the conversation as “a masterclass in weaponized stupidity.” “I read that only like 0.001% of bats have rabies. Statistically, I’m fine.”
Ah yes, the old “statistically I’m fine” argument. The same logic that makes people think they can drive home after six shots of Fireball because “most drunk drivers don’t crash.” Technically true. But you’re still an idiot.
Dr. Mehta tried to explain that rabies is not a “vibe-based illness.” It’s a bullet to the brain that takes weeks to arrive. The incubation period is variable, but once you have symptoms, you’re dead. There is no second opinion. There is no turmeric smoothie that fixes it. There is only the Milwaukee protocol, a controversial experimental treatment that has saved exactly 30 people in history, most of whom ended up with severe neurological damage. It’s not a plan. It’s a Hail Mary from hell.
Kyle was unmoved.
“I asked him if he’d rather take the shots or risk a slow, painful death where he becomes afraid of water and tries to bite his own girlfriend,” Dr. Mehta told reporters. “He said, and I quote, ‘I’m not afraid of water. I’m a Pisces.’”
At this point, any sane person would have sedated Kyle and administered the vaccine while he was unconscious. But HIPAA is a thing, and apparently, you can’t just jab people against their will unless they’re actively trying to eat the staff. So Kyle signed an AMA (Against Medical Advice) form, posted a final TikTok about “big pharma’s fearmongering,” and went home to let the universe decide his fate.
And the universe, being the petty bitch that it is, decided to deliver.
Three weeks later, Kyle started feeling “off.” A mild headache. Some tingling at the bite site. A low-grade fever. He Googled his symptoms and immediately bought a “methylene blue and colloidal silver” protocol from a wellness influencer. He also started drinking raw milk, because apparently, if you want to fight a virus that attacks the central nervous system, you should consume a liquid that’s basically a petri dish of bacteria.
By day 25, Kyle was experiencing hallucinations. He told his girlfriend that the bat had returned to “give him a message.” He started barking at the mailman. He became hypersalivating, which is exactly as disgusting as it sounds. Sarah finally called 911 when Kyle tried to drink water from the toilet bowl, explaining that “the water in the bowl has more electrolytes.”
Paramedics arrived to find Kyle naked in the backyard, attempting to fly.
“He was flapping his arms and saying something about how he was ‘ready to migrate south,’” one paramedic told local news. “We’ve seen a lot of PCP and meth, but this was different. This was rabies. You can just tell by the eyes. They’re… empty.”
Kyle is now in the ICU at Dell Seton Medical Center, undergoing the Milwaukee protocol. His family has started a GoFundMe, because of course they did. The page describes him as a “beloved son, brother, and free spirit who trusted his body’s wisdom.” So far, they’ve raised $47. The top comment is from a user named “RabiesAintNoJoke69” who wrote: “Lol. Lmao, even.”
The bat, by
Final Thoughts
After decades covering public health scares, what strikes me most about the rabies-bat narrative isn't the fear of the virus itself—it's the quiet, everyday missteps that lead to exposure. We treat these creatures as anonymous shadows in the night, yet each bite represents a failure in our basic awareness of the wildlife we share our homes with. The real story here isn't the bat, but our stubborn reluctance to take the simple, life-saving step of getting a shot before symptoms ever appear.