Help
Several days and two sets of ruined sheets later, I called
the local doctor. Unfortunately, he
turned out to be one of my Tuesday night drinking buddies. No matter—I'm sure the quack still knows
more about medicine than most of the bums in this town. So anyway, the consultation with the doctor
went something like this:
Me: He's bleeding.
Doctor: Yes, I noticed.
Me: So…?
Doctor: Give up. He's a goner.
Me: (Dangit.)