My gig at the clinic draws to a close with today’s performance. Having done a lot of medical and chemical material I’ve decided to end on a lighter note with a few cancer jokes. There aren’t that many good ones.
A man isn’t feeling well, so he goes to his doctor. The doctor examines him, then asks to speak with his wife. The doctor tells the wife her husband has cancer. The wife asks “can he be cured?”
The doctor replies, “There’s a chance we can cure him with chemotherapy, but you will need to take care of him every day for the next year — cooking all the meals, cleaning up the vomit, changing the bed pan, driving him to the hospital for daily treatments, and so on.”
When the wife comes out to the waiting room, the husband asks her what the doctor said. The wife answers, “He said that you’re going to die.”
Have you ever noticed nobody has ever ordered a grapefruit the size of a tumor? Ever. There’s no reciprocity. – Janeane Garofalo
Cancer cures smoking—eventually.
Doctor: The tests show that your cancer is advanced. You have six months to live.
Patient: But, doc, I can’t pay off my medical bills in six months.
Doctor: In that case, you have six months more. © Syd Love
You’ve been a great audience. I’ll be playing the Memorial Outpatient Clinic again in July.