A few months ago, I came down with the worst stomach virus I ever had. Within an hour of feeling fine, I was expelling nothing but water and bile from both ends. Worst of all, I couldn’t even sit upright without feeling faint and vomiting again. I managed to stagger to bed, cellphone in hand, vomiting along the way.
I called my mother in the early hours of the morning and she agreed to drive the hour north to take care of me. Unfortunately, when she arrived, she hadn’t thought to bring a key, so I had to get up to buzz her into the apartment. This led to more vomiting. Hilariously, in hindsight, my cat chose this time to start a vomiting streak as well.
So my mother entered the apartment to find multiple puddles of vomit, her daughter vomiting, and her daughter’s cat vomiting.
When I was still in the Army, my uniform (the badges and stuff) could be easily read. It said: “was a medic in Viet Nam”. So when my wife was pregnant with our first child and couldn’t pee because the baby was constricting the urethra and I kept taking her in to the emergency room to be catheterized, the doctor finally read my uniform and gave me disposable catheter kits to use at home.
When my mother had cancer surgery at a military hospital, the doctor said that when she was checked out of the hospital, the bandages of her incision from sternum to pelvis should be changed daily. All of the family was in the room (except “Attack from the Third Dimension” on this board.). They all looked at me. Yeah, I did it.
I’m sorry, but you haven’t lived until you’ve held your father’s limp penis in your hand and quickly removed the foley catheter therein so he could come home from the hospital 2 days earlier then he otherwise would have been allowed.
Being the only RN in a large and extended family will get you such.
Drowning them was quick and certain, and I believe far less cruel than attempting to wring their necks, which I would probably have not been successful at the first few times. What your “or something” encompasses I have no idea.