At the beginning of my shift I placed a stethoscope on an elderly and slightly deaf female patient's anterior chest wall.

"Big breaths," I instructed.

"Yes, they used to be," replied the patient.

 

 

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 he had died of a 'massive internal fart.'

 

 

While acquainting myself with a new elderly patient, I asked, 'How long have you been bedridden?'

After a look of complete confusion she answered, "Why, not for about twenty years - when my husband was alive."

 

 

As a new, young MD doing his residency in OB. I was quite embarrassed when performing female pelvic exams. To cover my embarrassment I had unconsciously formed a habit of whistling softly.

The middle-aged lady upon whom I was performing this exam suddenly burst out laughing and further embarrassing me.

I looked up from my work and sheepishly said, "I'm sorry. Was I tickling you?"

She replied with tears running down her cheeks from laughing so hard, "No doctor, but the song you were whistling was 'I wish I was an Oscar Meyer Wiener.'"