Sweet Sweet WS

Judging both my notes and memories mustaches seem to be quite popular amongst those born in the 1920's and 1930's. Granted the women at that age cant really help it (lack of estrogen you see).

From what ive written here in my notebook it would seem that WS was quite a treat. For the most part he remained quite still and content as the nurses seem to have fed him enough pills to sedate a small elephant (or kill a small dog, your choice really, you sick fuck). This, as mentioned previously only really results in one of two manners.

The first being the most preferred, spending the rest of the 11 or so hours watching television (particularly A&E, they have American Justice with Bill Kurtis), eating the patients dinners (he doesnt want them, hes nearly comatose and the nurse said you can have it) and reading your big book on Nazis.

The second being far from preferred but the most likely to occur. In the second situation the patient will take turns tugging at his tubes (whether feeding, breathing or peeing) and giving him self induced panic attacks in which his heart rate speeds up so much that the nurses are in every 10 or so minutes to make sure he doesnt kick the bucket. If in fact the panic attacks dont kill him, the nurses surely will. As a result you will have to hold his hand, calmly stroke it and tell him that it really will be ok (although even the medical professionals at this point in time highly doubt that is true).

Ideally the fits wont last too far into the night and at about 4am or so he will slowly close his eyes, grin, gurgle and not die. Sleep tight precious angel.