On Tuesday I spent four hours at my parent’s place doing housework and running errands. While I was gone, shit hit the fan.
Ms Freud, a breast cancer survivor, has issues with high blood pressure. It comes, and it goes. On Tuesday, her nose just started bleeding spontaneously. A while later she got dizzy. Then she could hardly stand.
So, she called 9-1-1. No one came … or they didn’t come quick enough … or the dispatch operator determined Ms Freud’s issue wasn’t serious enough. I don’t know the actual story. But Ms Freud started to panic. She couldn’t get a hold of me, or her worthless son. So, she made several 9-1-1 calls.
I arrived to the house only to see two ambulances and three cop cars out front. Panicking, I run into the house as fast as I can. There’s Ms Freud, standing. That’s a relief. I ask, to no one in particular, “What the hell is going on??”
Continue reading “Ms Freud, Gestapo, and Stucky Going All Cuckoo’s Nest In The Hospital”
