Say What?

During another uneventful day, we were called to "stage for sherrif's office on signal 24". Great. A crazy person. Once we were called to the scene, our patient- a man in his thirties- walked to the ambulance and told us his complaint. He seemed calm and sane. Oh how very wrong first impressions can be. Sure, he knew who he was, where he was, what day it was and the like, but as his story unfolded it was all we could do to listen with a straight face. He believed himself to be the son of Elvis Presley. He told us that as a child the FBI had inserted "lojack listening spy bugs" in his ears and head. He says he discovered them in 2003, and has been trying to find a doctor to remove them ever since. He says that the government will randomly control his actions, rendering him unable to communicate clearly. For effect, he begins speaking to us with his tongue pressed to the floor of his mouth, jaw wide open. After a few minutes he stops and speaks normally, saying "see? I told you so!". In looking at his paperwork it becomes apparrent that he has seen numerous doctors and mental health specialists who just don't know what to do for him. He doesn't take any of the medications prescribed to him. One doctor wrote him a prescription to take to the FBI to have the "ear bugs" removed. Another took X-rays and attempted to convince the man there was nothing there. He tells us he has lived in XYZ mental health institution, but left because they wouldn't take the mind control devices out either. He says he found an attorney to represent him so he could sue a neighboring county and their FBI branch. He shows us the court papers- sure enough he is suing them and has everything he claims listed. He wants 3 billion dollars in settlement. He says that today the bugs are making his throat swell. A family member has already taken him to the hospital where he was given a clean bill of health. At least physically. He isn't convinced. He wants us to look in his ears and help him out. We are all bewildered but entranced by the story that just gets more and more strange as it goes on. We offer him a ride to the hospital, but that's not what he wants. He wants us to dig in his ears, and it's just not going to happen. After a while, he decides he will wait until Monday and go see his family doctor. He thanks us for listening, and walks back inside his home. We look at each other, puzzled, and go back in service.