So I hit a deer last week and end up going through a guard rail and off a bridge (That'll be in another bitch).

Damn lucky I lived through it. I get taken to a hospital north of Halifax, where they did a full assessment, x-rays, gave me some nice drugs to ease my pain, and generally took pretty good care of me.

The doctor sees something in the x-rays she doesn't like and sends me down to Halifax for a catscan. Just a catscan.

I get to Halifax and am wheeled into a room with no less than 15 Doogie Howswers who immediately descend on me and start working on me like I've just come straight from the accident. No regard for the 1st doctor's assessment, no regard for anything I have to say. Just cut his clothes off and poke at him.

Then, after all is said and done, the dumb-ass at the end misdiagnoses the major pain issue. I said my shoulder hurt dumbass, not my chest! Don't you know the difference between a sternum and a scapula?????? And you wonder why I checked myself out of there? —Fatbastard