Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Sometimes I got nothing

The man tells me about his recent problems. We'll call him D____. Turns out, while D____ was busting his hump working the night shift, some snake slithered in and stole his wife. He's now struggling with suicidal and homocidal thoughts. He makes it clear to me, he's not just thinking of killing the other guy, no, no. "I don't just mean kill him, I mean tear him apart, rip him up, do horrible things to him and kill him." He's nearly in tears as he says this, because up until this happened to him, he was a relatively gentle person... ready to take personal offense rather than give offense to others. It's terrifying D____ that these thoughts and feelings are in him. He trembles, and closes his eyes. I just looked at him and said, "I'm sorry this is happening to you," realizing that sometimes I got nothing to say.

In other news: I got nothing against the practice of medicine, per se. I mean, Luke was a physician and all. But what's up with the interrogation session at every doctor visit? "Does anyone in the home smoke?" "You don't have any guns, right?" "Oh, but you do keep the ammo away from the guns, all locked up?" Ugh! What kind of Nazi garbage is this? Yeah, I smoke my pipe while I show the kids how to load and unload my .357 revolver, with dead batteries in the smoke detectors to boot! So what?!!! :P

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