Just pretend that you're a "Democrat" and willing to share your professional skills with a sad sack such as myself and it might make you feel better since you Democrats are always sucking up to "losers" such as myself.
I got stabbed in the chest a few weeks ago. It was less than entertaining. Actually - it hurt somewhat and the arterial blood spewing onto the cheap linoleum tiles with every heartbeat was somewhat disconcerting.
Breathe in - breathe out, Karma gets interrupted nasty when your nephew sticks you in the chest with a rusty "hunting-knife." Sharpens a person's middle-class reality as it were.
I'm fine with the "wound-care" and if I had health-insurance - would probably find the ordeal entertaining since the child-maann with mental-issues slipped the rusty hunting knife an inch closer than through a lung and that annoying bump-bump heart muscle..
Today is even more entertaining. It's more of the same - 20 minutes a day cursing under my breath toward the prick that thought that sticking me with a "hunting-knife" was one of those "very good ideas" that I must have missed in second-grade.
They keep sending me bills.
$1250 for the ambulance ride. $4850 per evening for the hospital bed and the nursing care times 5 days.. (The nurses at UC Davis are Angels from heaven, or perhaps it was the opiates that I could inject every ten minutes with the high-tech button that went into the sane vein that with which the doctors pressed packed blood cells.
Can you imagine? I'm still unsure as to who it is to be more angry with.
The doctors and the California based traumaa center that saved my life?
Or the judicial system that has yet to even speak with me regarding the "incident" that nearly made me so much dirt and fertilizer and is going to give the dangerous twit less than a year for stabbing me with a well-hafted, razor-sharp "hunting-knife?"
Here's the funny part: There is no way in hells green acres that I am going to pay for this particular $200,000 nightmare not of my own making.
I'd feel guilty considering the taxpaer's ruinous budget if I stabbed myself. It's probably a pissant microcosm of $850 Billion, yet it ticks me off a bit.
They probably should have left me spurting arterial blood on the cheap linoleum floorand done the math. I AM not profitable.
Still breathing in and out, today.
What the hell should I care about some collection agency demanding that I send them unimaginable funds from a nonexistant checking account? $1250 for an ambulance ride? $4950 per night for a bed? Times Five!?
No mention of the surgeion X2 since the nurses found a pool of blood and rushed me downstairs to the surgeons, the anestesiologists, and the accountants.
I ought to send them a piece of paper for "700 Billion." That might shut them up.
How many "zeros" in a trillion anyway? When you're not bleeding.
I think it's "nine."
In our infinate wisdom - with a loaded revolver held to our head. We gave Wall Street enough funds to keep the playground sandy.
You want money? You want ambulances?