Anyways, when I complained about the revenge she was taking on my poor abused body, she says, "Oh, don't worry. My sister is a vet. I'll talk to her and make sure it'll all work together. Although, that steel rod through your lung might have to go. Hmmm."
WTF?!?!?!? Besides my issues with being thought of as an animal and the fact that it's an entirely different knowledge base to be a vet as opposed to a people doctor, let's clarify something else. *hisses in a breath and moves arm so it's not resting against the skinned area or one of the bullet wounds* Her sister is not a vet. She's studying to be a vet. Not the same thing.
So Amelie says, "If you're going to be fussy about it, I suppose I could call my uncle and ask him. He's a surgeon. Although he might do plastic surgery. I can't remember. But he's real smart. I'm sure he could make a fair guess as to whether you could in fact get up and hike thirty-six miles out of the wilderness to civilization in your condition. Don't forget to stay hydrated, btw. I guess I'll have to drop a river or a creek in here somewhere."
I would bang my head against this rock if I didn't already have a concussion from three different blows to the head. Gah.
Anyways, now we all know my condition. Progress, right? But, uh, I don't think I'll be commandeering Amelie's blog again anytime soon. *freezes as he hears a noise above and looks up see a leopard stalking down the branch above him* Hey, uh, Amelie, I don't think leopards are supposed to live in this part of the world. Really. And uh, I'm logging off right now. See. We're all good. Delete the nice kitty now. I'll just sit here and figure out how to get away from the... the baddies. Right. The baddies. They should really be our focus right now, don't you think?