Few things are as frustrating as being at the top of a ladder outside a second story window and realizing that one has spray-painted the wrong side of a storm window frame after smacking it into place.
Unless it would be having what must be Forrest Gump's even more challenged cousin continually ignore instructions during a vascular case, resulting in bleeding (occasionally projectile) for hours past when we would normally be done. In fact, I never realized until today that coughing in that obnoxious, white-trash, I-want-to-share-my-phlegm-with-everyone cough could actually launch a jet of blood through a sub-cutaneous tunnel puncture for a distance of nearly two feet. Is there something vague about the instruction "Please hold still"? Because that's why you started bleeding again, and again, and again every time we would get it stopped. Surely that's easier than having three people applying pressure to different parts of your body so most of your blood isn't on the floor?
I'm amazed some people make it past forty.
1 comment:
Don't you wish "too dumb to live" were an actual diagnosis?
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