One of Sweetie's horsey buddies, we'll call her Lambchop, used to be an emergency room nurse in several rural hospitals around here. She told me an interesting story this evening.

Back in '88 or '89 she was working at a small hospital in Northeast Georgia. She said most of the patients who came in either drove themselves or had someone bring them. Rarely did they come in by ambulance. What this means is you never know what's coming in...

One day Lambchop is sitting there and this big ole boy came in and said (very politely) "excuse me ma'am, I need to see a doctor"

"What seems to be the problem?"

"I've been shot."

Lambchop said she was thinking "great! Quickdraw McGraw shot himself in the foot"

"Where are you shot?"

"Here, here and here" he says, pointing to his ABDOMEN...

She says she didn't even bother calling for a wheelchair (he'd walked in under his own power after all), she just told him to come on around the corner while she a paged a doctor and another nurse for help.

This old boy worked in construction and he'd been out of town for three weeks. He came home early to suprise his wife and got a suprise of his own.

He found her in bed with her boyfriend.

Some heated words were exchanged...

The boyfriend then reached over by the bed, pulled a .38 and shot the husband THREE times in the abdomen.

This just served to piss the ole boy off.

He took the pistol away from the boyfriend and proceeded to beat him half to death.

He then DROVE himself to the hospital.

He was either damn lucky or the boyfriend was a lousy shot, because all three bullets missed anything vital.

They dug the bullets out, stitched him up, gave him some antibiotics and sent him home.

The wife showed up in the middle of this with the boyfriend.

He got to spend a week in the hospital.

The law didn't do anything to the husband.

He filed for divorce shortly thereafter...