We’ve all heard the stories. The kid that was being all stoic about his booboo until he looked down and saw his arm covered in blood. The kid with the broken arm to insisted he was good to finish the ball game. The kid that thought his rash was acting up on the campout and woke up with ant bites all over him.
The jackass who had a bowling ball fight in the dark and passed out, then woke up and figured if he survived the whole night with a leg the color of a blood blister, there’s no reason to think it’s life-threatening.
No, that last one still sounds dumb.
I was never “that kid”…
(I’m “that adult”.)
uh huh
I had a broken arm at age 15. I was NOT good to finish the wrestling match. Broken bones are excruciatingly painful, and having two elbows on one arm was no advantage anyway.
Yankin’ the ER doc’s chain results in … extra … tests, like maybe a full prostate ultrasound.
fusilier
James 2:24