The doc says

I got a little more shut-eye, then got up, stumbled around taking care of animal chores and feeding myself as well. At eight, I called the doc's office, but she wasn't there, so I talked to a nurse who sounded like she was half-way between being really concerned and laughing her head off. "So... this was an accident, right?" she asked. No, I just like taking a really pissed off, potentially rabid, little flying mammal that lives in my chimney and daring it to bite me first. "Well, ma'am, I can't speak for the bat, but I wasn't planning on getting chewed." The doc called back after a while and told me that if the bat didn't break the skin, that I have nothing to worry about, and that I don't need to do anything about it. Of course, with odds like certain death versus certain pain, I think maybe this is one of those times I'm going to do a little more checking around before I make my final decision.