If I could fight hospitals…I would.

So I was locked out of my house two weeks ago, and being a drunk ass I tried to climb up my to my patio to get in. Next thing I knew, I woke up in the bushes one story lower than I wanted to be, bleeding out of my head. Good form. So anyways, I had to get four staples to close up the gash. Fast forward two weeks.

Today, I get them removed. This should take about what? Ten minutes? Nooooo try five hours. Yeeeeeep, five quick ones. Just sitting there watching CNN on mute next to a bunch of creepy people with stuff oozing out of them, coughing and shit. Just Awful Town–my entire day.

When it finally was time for the staples to secede from the union, things went bad. They didn’t leave quietly. Apparently, these guys just loved what was going on upstairs and didn’t want to leave*.

* Never wait 14 days to get staples removed.

Pain ensued, and FORTY-FIVE minutes later, the last one–the fourth, came out. It was intense. Ten minutes of grunting and bleeding per. I felt violated. My sweaty doctor told me I was hands down the worst staple removal ever. Count it!

So after five, just hideous hours the parking came out to around $12. Appreciate it. Then traffic poured battery acid on the wound for the next hour. I want that time back.

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