Well I’ve had this damn sinus infection for three weeks now and I was downtown and thought I’d go to the hospital but I couldn’t hardly stand up and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get out of the car at the hospital so I drove home and came back up the ramp and I was just sitting here and all of a sudden I couldn’t hold my head up (dog barks) SHUT THE F**K UP! (dog stops) so right I should give him any more cigarettes? F**k him. He smokes his and mine too and I have to buy him more and he never pays me back, that rotten son of a bitch. I should quit smoking? F**k you! Okay so I guess I can go with you but I’m not getting on that damn stretcher that’s how they get you, you know, so we can walk down the ramp hold me up now, hey you are nice and warm I’ll hold on to you okay oops be careful I don’t know if I can make the steps I’ll just sit here on the bench no, okay, I had better lay on the stretcher because now I feel sick to my stomach -- do you have a bucket? Well you’d better get one because as soon as this thing starts moving I’ll be making a mess of this place.
I’ll tell ya, it never gets any better, the patches was what they give me and the damn stuff makes me throw up the first thing the doctor did was try to take away my cigarettes but Jesus Christ, I’m bi-polar already, can you imagine what I’d be like if I couldn’t smoke? I only smoke a little, maybe three or four a day, and some pot, that’s it, then I stopped, they give me a prescription for the patches but how do you get the stuff? You’d think they’d give a person a disability check on time for Chrissakes. I was down to see Fred, and I told him, I can’t deal with your shit anymore, I had the nurse talk to him, I don’t know what she said but he was bawlin’ when she got done. It’s a hell of a thing living on social security, but my car runs on air, so at least I don’t have to worry about that.


Note: This call was dispatched as a 'near syncopal episode'. This post is, to the best of my memory, a transcript of the breathless, pauseless, unbroken monologue of our patient.

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Comment by Kimberly Robinson on April 22, 2009 at 9:50am
I'm thinking I should have some tinfoil hats in the rig, just in case.
Comment by Dustin J. Millis on April 21, 2009 at 4:32am
Well... I havnt had any pt's tell me that the FBI is going to kill him/her but about three weeks ago I had one tell me the gov't poisened the cow that he got his steak from last night which in turn made him sick today. Apparently which is why I had to come get him because now I want to take him to the hospital so the gov't can get more of his money from the hospital.

It took alot not to laugh at this guy. Long story short-- one pt. refusal
Comment by Kimberly Robinson on April 20, 2009 at 10:27am
Usually she talks about the FBI..they are trying to kill her, apparently. Maybe they gave her the weekend off.
Comment by Kimberly Robinson on April 20, 2009 at 10:03am
The tags were supposed to be 'there but for grace' and 'my Dad fought on the beaches at Normandy', a reference for the film geeks among us, but as usual I have displayed the computer knowledge of a cocker spaniel and it came out all bass ackwards. Oh well.
Comment by Joe Stoltz on April 20, 2009 at 9:53am
No doubt a syncopal episode caused by shortness of breath, in turn caused by the patient forgetting to inhale while talking. Which is classified as a speech impediment in others similarly long-winded.

Great story, Kim.

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