I might have died.

Won't you pray for me ?" Rivers hesitated, and then fell on his knees at the bedside, his face in his hands.

Peter lay still smiling, grimly attentive.

As Rivers rose to his feet, Lamb said, "Couldn't I have just a little whisky?
Doctors don't always know.

I've been in this scrape before, and just a little liquor does help and it don't do any harm.