to make you sit up and say WTF?
An abulance pulls up to the doors of the emergency room. Two ER techs jump out and pull out a gurney with a largish, bald, sexy man on it. They wheel in said man as a nurse moves to intercept. The nurse, middle aged, stiff, with a no-nonsense disposition starts taking notes with her clipboard. The sexy young man on the gurney is reminded of Nurse Ratchett from One Flew Over the Cookoo's Nest.
Nurse Ratchett: "What's the story with this gentleman?"
ER Kevin: "We've got a 33 year old male, approximately 250lbs, who seems to have taken a spill off an ATV. He's complaining of strong shoulder and lower back pain, a light difficulty taking full breaths, and he was briefly unconscious directly after the accident."
Nurse Ratchett: "Gotcha. Sir, what's your name?"
Kakar: "Kakar Smakar, formerly of EQ on the Drinal and Povar servers, then of the Illdian, Boulderfist, and Shadow Council servers of WoW, now just a sexy sword for hire."
Nurse Ratchett: "OK Kakar, what exactly happened? And don't lie, your wily charms and magnetic charasima won't work on me."
Kakar: Blinking mildly, "Well I was out at the Pawnee Grasslands riding 4-wheelers with some buddies of mine. The area was about an hours drive east of I-25, and looked suprisingly like Tattoine. I kept expecting to round a bend and see some Sand People with a few Banthas standing there. We had only been there about 20 minutes when I attempted a buttonhook turn whilst travelling at apporximately 25mph. The G-forces and laws of physics were not with this one, and I was promptly thrown from the ATV as it began to flip over. The next thing I knew I was dreaming of a 3-way between Flea, DSD, and Nexa whilst Iophiel and Neph sat bound in a pair of chairs with their pants down around their ankels, and only their left hands free. I'll let your imagination decide what act their left hands were engaged in. This odd dream quickly flashed to me laying on the ground with a Sandman standing over me with an archaic looking rifle barking like a hoarse great dane. Then I was rudely awaken with attempts at breathing and severe pain of the likes I had rarely experienced. My two compainions in mischief were anxiously standing over me, asking if I was OK and what a "dirty sanchez" was. After several minutes I was able to catch my breath, while my compaions calmly smoked a cigarette with shaking hands and described my Mary Lou Retton-like dismount. Also, they filled me in on the apparent flailing about and mumbling of things they would not repeat in polite company. They then managed to get me back to the vehicle, load up the ATV's, and take me to the urgent care facility on the edge of town. Where once they heard of my briefly catatonic state, they promptly called an ambulance for me as they didn't have the equipment capable of scanning my impressive cranium."
Nurse Ratchett: "Right, have you had anything to drink today sir?"
Kakar: "2 cups of French Roast coffee, and a large Hot Cocoa."
Nurse Ratchett: "No, I meant anything alchoholic."
Kakar: "Well, my cocoa did have a touch of the Snapster in it, but just a touch."
Nurse Ratchett: Whilst directing a severe stink-eye, "Right, and were you wearing a helmet?"
Kakar: "No, those graphics are teh ghey."
Nurse Ratchett: Whilst intesnifying her stink-eye, "OK then, just let me get your vitals and I"ll have the doctor take a look at you."
At this point, Kakar has his bloodpressure and pulse taken, then he's uncermoniously disrobed by no less than 3 nurses and put into one of those backless dresses great for access to the ***. The nurses have an obvious difficult time controlling themselves, but manage to do the deed without just dropping to their knees and making like a line of cirus seals.
Meanwhile, in the triage unit to one side, there is an obviously intoxicated man bound to the gurney with two bored-looking security guards maintaining a watchful eye while said drunk spews all sorts of nasty threats and insisting he needs to ****, but doesn't want to do it right there. I casually catch Security guard 1's eye, and mouth "Use the mace." causing him to break face momentarily and chuckle.
Four hours, 3 shots of morphine, multiple x-rays, and a CAT-scan later, Kakar is informed by an oddly Chris Kringle-looking man that he has a broken clavicle, and thankfully no other injuries. The doctor prescribes some codine, ice packs, and elevation of the injured area. He also calmly informs Kakar in a Zen-like manner, that he should have went with his original plan for the day and went snow-boarding in stead.
So here I am, pecking away with my weak hand contemplating whether to take a sick day from work tomorrow, and wondering how much money I'm going to score from AFLAC. I hope everyone else's Saturday wasn't as painful.
Also, I must confess my taking for granted of my right arm. It certainly makes things like opening a door, surfing ****, and whiping my *** interesting. Not to mention my poor attempts at sleeping.