A warning to the upright: Proton patients are all men, and we all have cancer in a gland related to sexual function, and we all put up with certain indignities on a daily basis that readers of this blog are well acquainted with. Readers who are easily offended by below-the-belt humor might do well to skip this entry.
A man was driving down a country road when he noticed a chicken running along side the car. He sped up to 40 mph, then 50, then 60. Still the chicken was right beside him. When he passed a farm, the chicken made a quick turn down the farm drive way. Curious, the motorist turned around and drove up to the farm house. As the farmer came out, the man saw the chicken nonchalantly pecking at the ground in the yard, and he noticed it had three legs. "Does that chicken have three legs?" he asked the farmer.
"Yup," the farmer replied. "See there's just me, Ma, and Junior, and we all like drumsticks, so a fella down at the extension station developed these here chickens specially for us."
"Wow," said the motorist. "Well how do they taste?"
"Dunno," said the farmer. "Ain't been able to catch one yet."
One patient, who only has a couple treatments left, told the support group he's afraid he's going to miss the balloon. As the laughter died down, he said, "Every morning I wake up, turn on my side, and wait."
A man told his friend, "I had a doctor's appointment today, and I had my first ever digital rectal exam."
"How'd it go?" asked the friend.
"Well, he had me drop my pants and bend over. Then he put his right hand on my shoulder, and— Wait a minute. No, he put his left hand on my shoulder, and— Wait! No! Son of a gun! Now that I think about it, he had both hands on my shoulders!"
After treatment, a man developed unusual side effects. He and his wife visited his urologist, and after questioning them, the doctor asked the man to leave the room. Once he was gone, the doc told the woman, "This is a very serious case. The only way to treat it is this: He must have sex every night for the next year. After that, he must have sex every other night for the next five years. Now he has to do this, or he'll go blind. No other way."
The woman went out to the car, and as she got in, her husband said, "Well? What did he say?"
She replied, "He said you're gonna go blind."
Three cowboys sat around the campfire swapping stories. One was from Kentucky, one from Montana, and one from California. The Kentucky guy started to brag about Kentucky bourbon, and the other two said they'd like to try it. "No problem," he said. "I got a bottle right here." He passed it around and after taking a swig, the Californian and the Montanan praised it to the skies. The Kentuckian tossed the bottle in the air, pulled his pistol and shot it to smithereens. "Why'd you do that?!" the others asked. "Shucks," he said, we got lots and lots of it in Kentucky."
"You boys ever had any Napa Valley wine?" asked the Californian. The others said no, but they'd sure like to try some. "Got a bottle right here," he said. He uncorked it, they each had a swallow, and they averred they'd never tasted better wine. The Californian tossed the bottle up, pulled his six shooter, and shattered it in mid air. "Why'd you do that?!" the others asked. "No problem, boys. We got lots and lots of it in California."
Not to be outdone, the Montanan said, "You ever have any Bozeman beer?" 'Course they wanted to try some, so he pulled out a bottle, twisted off the cap, and passed it around. "Wow!" they said, "That's really good beer!" The Montanan drew his pistol and shot the Californian dead. "Why'd you do that?" said the shocked Kentuckian. "Shucks," said the Montanan. "We got lots and lots of them in Montana.
True story: A patient here told his tech, Brian, that he didn't think he'd ever get used to the balloon. Brian said, "If you do, best not tell anyone." He inserted the guy's balloon and the guy said, "Hey! Easy!" Brian said, "Oh, did you want me to use lube?" Then he said, "Uh-oh! Where's my watch?" Anyone see my watch? It was right here a minute ago!"
Brian's on the late shift in Gantry 3—my gantry—and my treatment's at 10:30 tonight. Gives me something to anticipate.
A man went to his doctor complaining about his sex life. "My wife's lost all interest," he said.
"Here's what you do," said the doctor. "Go home, break down the door, rip her clothes off, throw her on the table, and go at it."
A few days later the doctor ran into the man down town. "Did you take my advice?" he asked.
"Sure did," answered the man. "I busted down the door, ripped off all her clothes, threw her on the table, and went at it."
"Well what did she think?" asked the doctor.
"I dunno," said the man, "but her bridge club sure liked it."
There were more, but you get the idea. If laughter's the best medicine, we should all get well real soon.
Treatment count: (as of 11:00 tonight) 3 down, 42 to go.
No comments:
Post a Comment