Hey! Didn’t I see this house on TV?

I don’t care for abdominal pain. They are generally the most lame calls ever. If your tummy hurts so bad that you need to call the ambulance, you had better be close to death if you want any sympathy.

We can’t get in this house. Hoarder-style. Smell it from the street. It smells like rotting death covered in trash and human waste. From 40 yards away.

Seriously, I don’t know how this house hasn’t exploded from the sheer amount of crap stuffed inside of it.
Literally, this guy should be on TV. If you’ve ever seen Hoarders on A&E, then you have a good frame of reference for just how full of crap this house is.

If you have ever worked on an ambulance, you have a good frame of reference for just how full of crap this guy is.

This guy has abdominal pain (allegedly) that is so bad, he absolutely has to go to the hospital, but, oh, let him get some shoes first, and find a book to take with him. Mom, you can ride up front. I’m impressed with your lack of ability to find clothes that match with all that crap you have in your house. Hey, at least the clothes are clean, and I don’t have to turn on the exhaust fan in the back of the ambulance.

Slimm advises me discreetly that Tummyacher just got back from the doctor’s office 3 hours ago with pain med prescriptions.

Now he is known as Faketummyacherseeker.

Interestingly enough, I catch him peeking over his shoulder at me. I am, of course, sitting in the Captain chair, from which I frequently write my blog posts. Unless you are my boss, then I write them after I get home, on my own time.

Each time he looks at me (I am generally ignoring him, of course, because, frankly, I think he’s full of shit), his whines and whimpers get just a little bit louder.

“What does the pain feel like?”

“Oh, it’s awful. I can’t really describe it. It hurts really bad.”

“How bad on a scale of 1-10?”

“Twelve.”

Obviously not a mathematician.  “Does anything make it worse?”

“Moving makes it worse. It’s just terrible.”

“Does anything make it better?”

“Usually Dilaudid makes the pain go away. OOOOhhhhhhh, ithurtsbad!”

Of course it does, Mr. Faketummyacherseeker, of course it does.

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