I was triaging a 48 year old male who'd come in for a lacerated finger. I asked about previous medical problems and here's what I got.
Nothing much except I can't die.
You can't die? (I said, continuing to type, not looking up)
No mahame.
Why do you say that? (still typing)
Well, once when I tried to commit suicide, I shot myself with a nail gun. I was aiming for here (forefinger held at the back of his head) but I missed and it went through the back of my tongue and through my vocal cords. Before that, I tried to shoot myself with a 25 automatic and it wouldn't go off. Later on, I shot that gun and it went off with no problem. I sold it and it never missed another lick. This other time, I was living in Chicago and the commuter trains come through at the same times all day long. I knew when that train was coming and I got a bottle of whiskey and parked my truck on the tracks. That was the first time in 23 years that train was delayed. Before it got there, I changed my mind. Then another time, I had pneumonia and I took a whole bottle of antibiotics at once. I told my family to make arrangements, and everything, but I woke up later on like normal. Never had no problems. And my pneumonia was gone. They said it was a miracle.
I wasn't typing, anymore. I think my mouth mighta been open a little.
No comments:
Post a Comment