Estimated read time: 5-6 minutes
This archived news story is available only for your personal, non-commercial use. Information in the story may be outdated or superseded by additional information. Reading or replaying the story in its archived form does not constitute a republication of the story.
DALLAS (AP) — When an area man was bitten by an African bush viper, the Dallas Zoo was ready to strike.
Along with one of the country's most impressive collections of venomous snakes, the zoo also has one of the largest supplies of anti-venom.
Most snakebites involve native species and bad judgment, jokes Bradley Lawrence, the zoo's reptile and amphibian supervisor.
"Most of the time it's native venomous snakes that somebody has decided to mess around with, late at night, probably because they've had a few too many," he told The Dallas Morning News (http://bit.ly/1GK1Gni). "Like, 'Oh, look, there's a snake. Let's pick it up!'"
Most native snakes' anti-venom is stocked in hospitals, but when someone in the Southwest, from Louisiana to California, needs an antidote for an exotic snakebite, the zoo is often called to help.
Such a call may come only once a year, but Lawrence said they often come about 3 a.m., and he is usually the person who answers.
The zoo will deliver at least half of its supply of the necessary anti-venom through police or CareFlite, which carries the vials by helicopter or plane. The hospitals that receive the anti-venom pay to restock whatever isn't returned.
The zoo keeps thousands of vials — about $200,000 worth — in a small refrigerator.
The most recent call for help came in January, when a man in the Dallas-Fort Worth area was bitten by his African bush viper, an exotic species without its own anti-venom.
In such cases, the zoo sends an anti-venom that scientific papers have shown could work, Lawrence said.
The African bush viper is illegal to own in Dallas and Fort Worth, but "laws are always broken," said Mark Pyle, president of the Dallas-Fort Worth Herpetological Society.
The Texas Parks and Wildlife Department sells controlled exotic snake permits for venomous snakes and five of the constrictor species for $20 for recreational owners and $60 for commercial permits. But cities often ban the possession of venomous snakes, wildlife permits specialist Megan Russell said.
But she said the number of permits issued doesn't reflect the number of people who own venomous snakes without following the rules.
Privacy laws prevent the health care workers who treated the man who was bitten by the bush viper from discussing the case. But typically anyone bitten by such a snake in the Dallas area is treated at Parkland Memorial Hospital — which senior toxicology fellow Dr. Nancy Onisko calls "the Snakebite Center of Excellence."
Parkland doesn't treat many exotic snakebites. In 2014, it treated one or two — compared with about 50 bites involving native species such as copperheads and rattlesnakes.
Copperhead bites are the most common, and they generally involve only pain and swelling.
The hospital occasionally treats rattlesnakebites, which can cause tissue death, blisters and other symptoms such as a rapid heartbeat and problems with blood clotting.
For bites from copperheads, rattlesnakes and other native species, hospitals stock the anti-venom CroFab.
When treating a bite, doctors determine the kind of snake involved and familiarize themselves with the venom's effects, the best anti-venom to use and the risks. Some people can be allergic to anti-venom, which is made by a few national suppliers.
If the potential for pain isn't enough of a reason to stay away from venomous snakes, the cost for bite treatments should be.
Prices for anti-venom — before a hospital's markup — range from $200 a vial for Asian snakes to $2,500 a vial for Australian species.
Therapy usually begins with four to six vials, but up to 30 vials may be needed in extreme cases.
"I can't imagine the hospital bill on a snakebite," Lawrence said.
At the Dallas Zoo's reptile house, each cage is labeled with information about the snake and its corresponding anti-venom. About 65 of the building's 90 species of snakes are venomous, said Ruston Hartdegen, the zoo's curator of herpetology.
Perhaps the nastiest of the lot is the inland taipan, one of the deadliest species in the world.
"One drop is plenty to probably kill everybody at the zoo today," Lawrence said of the taipan, aptly nicknamed the "fierce snake." ''Thirty minutes without anti-venom is bad news."
All staff members are trained to work with the venomous snakes, but not all can handle the cobras and other especially dangerous species. To work with those snakes, handlers must have a second tier of skills that requires frequent training, Hartdegen said.
On the walls where the snake keepers work are several red buttons labeled "snakebite alarm." Covered with a thin coat of dust, the buttons are rarely used except during annual tests.
In the zoo's 127-year history, handlers have been bitten only three times. All of the bites were dry bites, meaning no venom was injected.
The zoo's snake handlers are aware of the almost entrancing lethal power snakes can have.
Lawrence is a fan of the cobras and mambas, but assistant supervisor Matt Vaughan is a pit viper guy.
"The Ferraris of the predators on the planet," Vaughan said. They get their name from the two heat-sensing pits between their nostrils and eyes.
Vaughan grew up in Weatherford, near a lake teeming with reptiles and amphibians. For a kid who was fascinated with dinosaurs, "I was in heaven," he said.
Lawrence, who has a green mamba tattoo swirling up his arm and a bearded dragon belt buckle, got his first snake — a green snake — from his science teacher father when he was 10.
"He was like, 'You'll never be able to make a living doing this,'" Lawrence said. "What he should have said was, 'You'll never be able to make a lot of money doing this.'"
When people are reckless with venomous snakes, the zoo's snake keepers are also put at risk, Lawrence said.
If someone is bitten by a death adder, for example, the zoo provides all six of its vials of anti-venom for treatment. That means zookeepers can't handle their own death adders — because there would be no way to treat anyone who was bitten until there's a new supply of anti-venom.
"That's the part that's irresponsible, keeping venomous snakes when you know you don't have the anti-venom," Lawrence said. "We'd prefer if people did not keep exotic venomous things at home."
___
Information from: The Dallas Morning News, http://www.dallasnews.com
Editor's note: This is an AP Member Exchange provided by The Dallas Morning News.
Copyright © The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
