That's a disturbing observation, Rattling, to the point that I felt the need to consult my chronically ill neighbour Bert. He confirms that it's not a pen, it's a rectal thermometer. Whew! (Bert wanted the doctor's number; I think he's got troubles that haven't been diagnosed yet).
Bschooled, please tell me that's an invented joke and not a "Life's Like That" submission. Rather than soil a perfectly good gown, why not just hand the poor woman a body bag?
3 comments:
I wouldn't trust him. No books on the shelves...and a pen in his top pocket. The man's an engineer!
This reminds me of a joke I once read in Reader's Digest:
-Just before I was to give my anxious patient the results of her blood test, I handed her an examining gown.
“I can never remember with these things,” she said nervously. “Does the opening go in the front or the back?”
I couldn't resist. “Doesn’t really matter,” I shrugged, “You’re terminal anyway.”
-Dr. James K. (Submitted Dec. 2007)
That's a disturbing observation, Rattling, to the point that I felt the need to consult my chronically ill neighbour Bert. He confirms that it's not a pen, it's a rectal thermometer. Whew! (Bert wanted the doctor's number; I think he's got troubles that haven't been diagnosed yet).
Bschooled, please tell me that's an invented joke and not a "Life's Like That" submission. Rather than soil a perfectly good gown, why not just hand the poor woman a body bag?
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