now he was lying on a stretcher begging that they not cut his sweater [please don't cut this sweater off me] and his pain was a twelve on a scale of one to ten.
after x-rays, collars and pain medications the room cleared and he was left with the constant beeping that sounded like it was emanating from his own head.
enter the receptionist with her white shoes, clipboard, and the following questions:
- can you confirm your name?
- what's your home phone number?
- do you have a living will?
- what's your religion preference?
or, in terms chris can understand:
- emergency room: "ouch, my head." "priest?"
3 comments:
Sadly, Chris didn't understand it. Luckily, I was here to help.
lol! that -is- lucky ... and, thank you. :)
(here's the replay)
Me, sitting on the sofa - wide-eyed:
"Why on earth did she send that to me?'
Her, incredulously:
"The Six Word thing?"
Me:
"Wha- oh... Right."
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