Word: throatedly
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...midnight, he had not slept a wink. About a dozen of his followers were on hand for his opening words: "Men are on earth to find truth and live it out. Truth is power. Without truth man dies." Two loudspeakers atop the building picked up his words from a throat microphone and flung them into the night wind...
...sharp pain between my ribs," but instead of dropping down dead, he only spitted another brace of gizzards. Three hundred years later, the same Count Fosca "shot myself in the chest and then in the mouth"; 300 years after that, still going strong, he drew a razor across his throat, but "the lips of the gash [drew] together...only a long pink scar remained...
Five years ago, Crane Operator Henry Ciesla was stricken with amyotrophic lat eral sclerosis, an incurable chronic neurological disease. Paralyzed from the throat down, he was placed in an iron lung at Buffalo's Meyer Memorial Hospital; he was not expected to live more than a year. But Ciesla refused to die. With permanent breathing and feeding tubes in his throat and stomach, he stayed cheerful, watched TV via an overhead mirror. Last week a wall-panel fuse in the hospital blew out, stopped the life-preserving iron lung. Alone in his private room, Henry Ciesla died...
...jejunum with its trailing tentacles of arteries and veins. Four and a half hours after operation's start, he was able to begin the fine sewing necessary to join the jejunum to the upper end of the esophagus. This gave Mike a short-circuited digestive tract: throat to gullet to jejunum, with the stomach and duodenum as spectators. Dr. Swan now had a choice. He could close Mike up, as originally planned, and finish the operation after jejunum and esophagus had grown together. Or he might go right ahead and make the necessary connection with the stomach...
While washing his hands and singing a gay Neapolitan air, he stopped and remarked casually: "My father cut his throat," then went back to singing. Byron was word-perfect in his monster role before he was out of his teens. Henceforth, the clubfoot and the sensitive heart hid themselves in the disguise of a cold, cloven-hoofed devil. On his brow, at a moment's notice, would appear "that singular scowl" which caused one acquaintance to exclaim that he "had never seen a man with such a Cain-like mark on the forehead." A Pair of Stays. A Miss...