And how, precisely, am I supposed to tell random fucking jackoffs like in the story?
None of you fucks even know what a DNR is, means, what it looks like, and not a single one of you cunts could be expected to uphold it even if you were told.
You don’t get a special bracelet. This isn’t the ‘life alert’ infomercial. Tattoos mean absolutely nothing to medical professionals.
You literally have to have a DNR on file, active, in your county of residence, and they have to look it up. Which will not happen until you’re already admitted.
And if you get sent to a hospital in a different county? Because you’re visiting family or something? You’re fucked. You’re on a machine, keeping you alive. As long as your shitty relatives feel like it.
I have no desire to die incoherent in a hospital with no concept of what’s going on other than everything is uncomfortable. And with the united state’s version of healthcare, I will have to make sure I die somewhere else.
When I die, it isn’t fucking about you
So the article says they’ve done ten successful launches.
What does that actually mean? It’s real short on details.
They’ve successfully put ten payloads in orbit? Or what?