He came in sitting up in the stretcher, talking, making jokes. His chief complaint was "it feels like my insides are being microwaved." Being very detail-oriented, he later adjusted this to "it feels like I ate a huge bowl of spicy chilli" (admitting that he'd never had his insides microwaved so couldn't be entirely sure that was accurate).
He ended up having no complications other than some skin burns, but we all kept nervously walking by his room waiting for his heart to stop or his spleen to explode or something.
Lucky, lucky, lucky man.
The cell phone in his breast pocket was still working too.
His shirt was singed to pieces.
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