How the Priest Saved My Life

greg skidmore
As I lay dying of sepsis in the hospital bed, racked with fever, twitching with convulsions and delerious with hallucinations. the night nurse's aide would check my vital signs every hour on the hour. In the middle of the night she says, "If your blood pressure drops any more I'm calling the doctor." I dozed off into a fitful sleep and awoke to the sound of a man mumbling over me. When he touched my head with his greasy thumb I relaized he was a priest giving me the last rites. I rose up off my sick bed and said, "I don't need a goddamn priest I need a goddamn doctor. Get the hell out here." Soon the nurse's aide and the doctor arrived at my bedside. The doctor said, "Mr. Skidmore your blood pressure and heart rate are much, much better and your fever is down." "Doc," I said. "Apologise to the priest for me. He pissed me off so bad I think he saved my life."

Published by greg skidmore

30 years a professional chef now retired and involved in commentary, creative writing and all things lyrical  View profile

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