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| - Their patient, who was pretty sure that his name was Simon, sat up in his bed, scratched his head, and looked down at his swollen wrist. "Uh, guys, thanks very much for all this attention, but I think it’s just my wrist that’s broken. It hurts a lot, so thanks for the IV, but I really don’t think you need to be this worried. . . it is Simon! Ha-ha-ha! Yes!" He had remembered his name, but still didn't quite realize that the doctors thought he had gone completely insane. “Nonsense,” said the doctor. “Who’s the doctor here, doctor?”
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| abstract
| - Their patient, who was pretty sure that his name was Simon, sat up in his bed, scratched his head, and looked down at his swollen wrist. "Uh, guys, thanks very much for all this attention, but I think it’s just my wrist that’s broken. It hurts a lot, so thanks for the IV, but I really don’t think you need to be this worried. . . it is Simon! Ha-ha-ha! Yes!" He had remembered his name, but still didn't quite realize that the doctors thought he had gone completely insane. One of the male doctors, wearing a name tag that read Dr. Stranglethrotter, looked up distractedly. "He’s still talking? I told you to give him morphine until he goes blind. Guess what? Blind people don’t talk! Give him...lets see...carry the four...uhh...twelve-thousand more CCs of morphine...God, I hate kids..." “But doctor, that will kill him!” said an anesthesiologist walking with Dr. Stranglethrotter. Her nametag read ‘Dr. Stacy Hermedge, MD, with more experience and credentials than Dr. Stranglethrotter.’ “Nonsense,” said the doctor. “Who’s the doctor here, doctor?” Dr. Hermedge had started to reply, and was pointing to her list of credentials, when she was cut short by Stranglethrotter.
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