You really can’t put one over on a nurse—especially one who knows how to hold a grudge and has access to medical-grade tape.
The motorcycle patrolman learned that lesson the hard way.
It started innocently enough. He was rushed into the hospital late one night with a raging case of appendicitis. Sirens, flashing lights, concerned doctors—the whole emergency-room drama. Surgery went smoothly, the appendix came out, and the medical team assured him everything had gone perfectly. Textbook procedure. No complications. Recovery should be quick.
But the next morning, something felt… off.
It wasn’t pain. It wasn’t nausea. It was a strange, persistent sensation across his chest, like something was tugging at him every time he shifted in bed. A faint pulling, almost like someone was messing with his chest hair.
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