David Sedaris
is one of the funniest writers in the world; worthy of being British. I got "Me Talk Pretty One Day" for Christmas and peed the couch that afternoon laughing so hard. Anyway, he's as weird as all of us (he'd make a fabulous b3tan, really!) and he loves accident stories, the gruesomer the better.

My story: I once slagged off work (which is UNHEARD OF for me) and stood in line to get a ticket to his book signing. Then I spent all day downtown waiting to get a good seat, fending off hoboes and scam artists trolling for change.
After ward, I stood in line for 2 hours, waiting to have him sign my book and told him my most recent tale of woe from the emergency dept (woman ran over herself with an industrial lawnmower-lost both legs and an arm in the grass, had a breast and a buttock sliced off and was still talking to us when she came in via ambulance. She died soon after arrival.)

He was fascinated and made me stop halfway through and start over so he could record the details in his little black book.

I topped David Sedaris!
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Tue 21 Apr 2009, 3:21, 3 replies)

Medics.
I'm definitely a fan of all you medical types. The story you tell there just makes me ever more of a fan. Not that I like the sick stuff, but that you can actually deal with it all.

What the hell can you do for someone in that state,? Even if they don't realise it, you must have a fair idea that they're fucked.

I'd be a nervous wreck spewing into my boots somewhere.
( speedyballbangpots, Tue 21 Apr 2009, 13:23, closed)

urf
I almost did...
The blades had sliced into her buttock and flank so deeply that when we turned her on her side to check for wounds to the back, her hip quivered once and then the entire back half of her, um fell off,. You could see into her ribcage and observe her aorta thundering away.

I think natural endorphins had kicked in-she wasn't in pain, but was very worried about her grandchildren and what they might find on the lawn when they got home from school. Fortunately her neighbor had picked up the severed limbs and hosed the blood off the grass before they arrived, bless him.

Strangely enough, many times people don't realize they're fucked. They are concerned with useless minutiae-they are upset we cut off their clothes or they keep asking for a cup of coffee. I think it's a protective thing-no one wants to admit they have 45 minutes of life left.

What can you do? Be with them-that's it. Hold their hand, smile into their eyes with love and listen with all you've got to what they want to say. Sometimes full attention is the greatest and only gift you can give.
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Wed 22 Apr 2009, 3:58, closed)

*shudder*
You have my undying respect, there is just no way I could deal with that.
( speedyballbangpots, Thu 23 Apr 2009, 8:57, closed)