This morning our new, late lamb wasn't looking his best (or very well at all). Here's what ensued.
The ambulance. Attendant obviously sincerely worried about the health of the patient, Mr. L.Chop. Bottle of mother's milk also on board.
The waiting room. Nosy neighbour. Too sick to bother telling them to butt out and mind their own business.
Ugh. As always, the one patient who's drunk and unruly sits right beside me.
Oh FINALLY! The triage nurse. (Hmm..looks a lot like that ambulance attendant...)
Checks my vitals. It's not my throat. Really.
Checks my....feet? It's not my feet. Believe me.
"Oh oh. Things don't look good. It's your feet. Prognosis? Fatal foot rot."
HAHA!! Just joking! Good one eh?
Ok, Mr. Chop. Come with me, it won't be long. The doctor should be along anytime. (yeah right)
New waiting room. Looks like the old one, minus the drunken cat. Quiet at least.
And warm...maybe I'll have a quick nap.
Hello there Mr...Chop? I'll be your doctor today. How are you doing?
Let me just take a look here. Sore throat?
No? Not the throat? Tell me what's going on.
Let me see your eyes. How is your vision?
Hmm...this ear looks interesting...
Let's try some massage therapy.
I keep coming back to this ear...something isn't right.
Nurse, let's run some tests on this ear. Stat.
We're going to be transferring you to the Pallitive Care Unit now.
As of the end of this tale, Mr. L. Chop has returned home to be with his family in his final hours. He is grateful for the quality care he received during his time at Barnyard Organics General Hospital however and will be leaving the balance of his estate to the emergency care unit there.
Disclaimer: Before you call PETA; I didn't actually leave the care of this ill lamb up to a 11 month old and a two year old, the pictures just turned out that way.