Finding Jesus in a bottle of pills and other not so good endeavors . . .

So it's been awhile since I've got to share something worthwhile on here (not that I'm entirely sure any of the following qualifies). Call it writer's block. Or, as my partner in psych pointed out this evening, call it "we're pretty sure not too much shocks us any more." That being said . . .

A girl takes an indeterminate amount of unknown pills. After her ER visit, and various other medical adventures, she arrives at our jail. She proceeds to tell us she has found Jesus. Wonderful. In the pills. Ok, maybe not so good. Apparently we are all going to hell, (according to my partner, not news). We are evil, Godless souls ect. Then she pulls down her pants and presses parts of her anatomy I don't need to see against the cell window. Nice. I don't think Jesus was impressed . . .

Don't decide to eat something that's inedible as a quick way to the hospital. Especially if that something is a bolt, or a pencil, or anything else your mom taught you not to put in your mouth. It will not end well. Trust us.

I had to write a medical report that made my Sgt. call me and say, "I never want to read another report containing 'foul smelling discharge from the vaginal area' again." Sorry, the medical department told me we had to document it. Next time I guess I'll have to put a disclaimer on my reports.

Do not think that the best course of action after rolling a tanker truck (commercial not firefighting) is to get out and walk around. Please, please let us backboard you. You're making me nervous . . .

Please do not eat razor blades . . . see the earlier disclaimer about bad ends.

Never underestimate how short of a fuse your partner may have after his/her beloved NFL team of choice gets beaten.