--Dr. Richard Byrnes, Seattle, WA
One day I had to be the bearer of bad news when I
told a wife that her husband had died of a massive myocardial infarct. Not
more than five minutes later, I heard her reporting to the rest of
the family that the had died of a "massive internal fart."
--Dr. Susan Steinberg, Manitoba, Canada
I was performing a complete physical, including the
visual acuity test. I placed the patient twenty feet from the chart
and began, "Cover your right eye with your hand." He read
the 20/20 line perfectly. Now your left." Again, a flawless read.
Now both," I requested . There was silence. He couldn't even
read the large E on the top line. I turned and discovered that he had
done exactly what I had asked; he was standing there with both his eyes
covered I was laughing too hard to finish the exam.
--Dr. Matthew Theodropolous, Worcester, MA
During a patient's two week follow-up appointment
with his cardiologist, he informed me, his doctor, that he
was having trouble with one of his medications. Which one?" I asked. The patch. The
nurse told me to put on a new one every six hours and now I'm running out of places to put
it!" I had him quickly undress and discovered what I hoped I
wouldn't see. Yes, the man had over fifty patches on his body!
Now the instructions include removal of the old patch before applying a new one.
--Dr. Rebecca St. Clair, Norfolk, VA
While acquainting myself with a new elderly patient,
I asked, "How long have you been bed-ridden?" After a look of complete
confusion she answered Why, not for about twenty years -- when
my husband was alive."
--Dr. Steven Swanson, Corvallis, OR
I was caring for a woman from Kentucky and asked, So,
how's your breakfast this morning?" It's very good, except for the
Kentucky Jelly I can't seem to get used to the taste," the patient replied. I
then asked to see the jelly and the woman produced a foil packet labeled
--Dr. Leonard Kransdorf, Detroit, MI
And Finally . . . A new, young MD doing his
residency in OB was quite embarrassed performing female pelvic exams. To cover his
embarrassment he had unconsciously formed a habit of whistling softly. The
middle aged lady upon whom he was performing this exam suddenly burst
out laughing and further embarrassed him. He looked up from his work
and sheepishly said, "I'm sorry. Was I tickling you?"
She replied, "No doctor, but the song you were whistling was 'I wish
I was an Oscar Meyer Wiener."