It’s Not Brain Surgery

I thought the pain in my stomach was just gas, so of course I had to update my status on Facebook. My friends weren’t amused though—they were worried—so I called a nurse, who told me to come in and see a doctor.

Me: I have a few errands to run first. Do you think I could come in later?

Nurse: I really think you should come in right away.

Me: What’s the worst that could happen if I were to run just one errand?

Nurse: Death.

As far as side effects go, death is right up there with heartburn and diarrhea, so I promptly drove to the doctor’s office, where I was ushered past jealous scowls and deposited in an exam room. There wasn’t even time to disrobe before a doctor arrived and poked my belly just one time. After peeling me off the ceiling, a kind nurse instructed me to report directly to the emergency room for an appendectomy.

The moral of the story: If your Facebook friends don’t fall for a fart joke, you may want to contact your doctor.

Hey doc—while you're in there, could you do a little liposuction?

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