Since I was 12 years old, I have been handling snakes and have developed a particular fondness for “rescuing” cobras. Back in 1999, when I was pursuing my doctoral studies at the Indian Veterinary Research Institute in Bareilly, I had the opportunity to live my dreams. The place was teeming with cobras, and I would often find myself with around 10 of them in my hostel room. These cobras were captured from various locations over the past few weeks and kept in a terrarium generously provided by one of the departments. Whenever the tank reached its capacity, I would take them out into the jungles and release them. My friends knew that if the side box of my bullet motorcycle was locked, it meant there was a cobra inside. During this time, I also took the opportunity to educate fellow scholars about snakes, as shown in the picture where I am seen introducing Mrs. Naja to other postgraduate scholars on the hostel terrace, holding a stick.

On one fateful day, I vividly remember having 16 or 18 cobras of different sizes in the terrarium. A scientist from the surgery department had expressed an interest in testing Ketamine anesthesia on the snakes, with the goal of standardizing the drug for reptile surgery. My usual routine involved returning to my room by 9:00 PM, taking a brief rest for about 15-20 minutes, and then heading back to the lab. During this time, I thought it would be a good opportunity to distribute the snakes into different rat cages provided by the surgery department, based on their sizes. At that point, I was still relatively new to handling snakes and was quite confident in handling cobras without much concern. I had almost finished segregating them when a four-foot female cobra unexpectedly bit my right middle finger as I carelessly placed it inside a cage. As I pulled my finger back, I noticed the bite wounds and blood flowing from them, and panic surged through me like bile rising in my throat. I was convinced that I was going to suffer a pitiful and agonizing death, much like the fate of the rats I fed to these snakes. Meanwhile, the cobra, now free on my bed, watched me intently with its hood raised. To regain my composure, I had to audibly reassure myself that things would not turn out as dire as I feared. Gradually, I regained some control and carefully placed the snake back into its cage—a vital first step when bitten while handling snakes. It is essential to either securely restrain the snake or, if necessary, euthanize it “humanely” to prevent the people rushing in to assist you from being bitten as well. I then left the room and urgently called out to one of my friends on the second floor, requesting immediate assistance. He casually asked if it was an urgent matter, to which I replied that I had been bitten by a cobra. Startled, he hurried down to my aid. Upon examining my finger, I realized it was a single fang bite, with a few tooth marks and a deep tear resulting from my instinctive pullback. I instructed my friend to make a small linear incision at the fang wound, but he nearly severed my finger in the process. Caution is crucial here! Many snakebite victims have suffered more harm from poorly executed incisions, severing arteries and nerves. I guided him to create a small nick on the fang wound and used warm water from the bathroom geyser to allow the blood to flow for a while. Subsequently, someone applied a tourniquet to my arm. Within minutes, I discovered the excruciating pain that a tight tourniquet can inflict. It felt as though my arm would be severed at the knot. This is another common mistake people make—using a tourniquet that is too tight. Remember, a tightly applied tourniquet can cause damage to your arm even if the snake venom itself doesn’t! Soon after, I was rushed to the IVRI hospital. By then, I had fully regained my composure and explained the incident to Dr. Manu Malvia, the attending doctor, who I knew as a jovial person. I informed him that it was a single fang bite and, at worst, I might lose my finger. I even suggested that anti-venom might not be necessary. However, he insisted that I receive the anti-venom and administered one vial. I was admitted to the hospital overnight, and by the next morning, all I had was a swollen finger wrapped in bandages. Over the following week, the swelling gradually subsided, leaving behind a permanent scar that became insensitive to touch. I consider myself fortunate to have emerged from the incident with both my life and limb intact. My friends made me promise never to handle a cobra again, although that promise remained unbroken for only four hours before I rescued another cobra from a farmer’s house. Looking back, I am not even certain if I had been envenomated at all. Nevertheless, it was an experience that truly shaped me as a snake handler.

The key take-home messages from this incident are as follows:

As a snake handler, it is crucial never to become complacent, as complacency can be lethal. Always maintain a healthy fear and even the slightest tremor in your hands as you embark on rescuing your hundredth venomous snake.

Utilize non-contact methods for rescue. While free-handling may be fascinating, it can lead to unfortunate outcomes for both the snake and the handler. A snake hook is an essential tool that ensures the well-being of both parties.

Placebo and firm reassuring words hold great significance. If an experienced individual like myself can succumb to fear after a snakebite, one can only imagine the plight of an average person. It’s no wonder that more people die from fear than from the actual effects of venom. Removing the mortal fear associated with snakebites is as important, if not more so, as neutralizing the venom itself. For those who are not well-informed, administering any injection touted as THE remedy for snakebites (until anti-venom is administered, which is essential) can significantly increase the chances of survival.

Anti-venom is the sole remedy for venomous snakebites. Cutting the wound and applying tourniquets can cause more harm than the venom itself.

A snakebite should never deter you from engaging in future rescues.