A visit to the doctor

I got a bit of a chest infection during the week, hawking up big green oysters, you know? So I said I’d better go and see the Doc.

Howya Doc.

Howya Bock.

Doc, I have this bit of a chest infection.

Right, Bock. Let’s have a listen.

So he poked around with his stethoscope and he said

Sorry Bock. It’s bad news. You have lung cancer.

Then he said,

Nah. Only joking. Here, take a few of these several times a day for a while and it’ll go away.

Right, Doc, I said. Thanks.

Bock, he said, as I was leaving.


Bock, I notice you’re becoming a bit of a fat bastard.

What, Doc? I replied in surprise.

You’re becoming somewhat rotund. I’ve noticed it ever since you packed in the smokes.

Surely not, Doc, I protested.

Oh yes, Bock, he insisted.

But fuck it Doc, I do all the right things. I get plenty of exercise.

Like what, Bock?

Well, I listen to a lot of loud music. And . . . and I drive very fast with the windows open!

What about your eating habits?

Oh Jesus, Doc, I watch what I eat. The most nachos I’d have would be two bags at a time. And no more than four pots of cheese sauce (with jalapenos). Six doughnuts, and I’d be full. No more than two dinners any evening, plus of course, a pound of sausages cooked in dripping for my breakfast, served with melted butter and fried potatoes.

Hmmm, he said, fixing me with his glittering eye. What about drink?

Oh, Doc, I know I go out every night, but I’d always leave it at the eight pints. And of course, the bottle of wine when I get home. Or two.

Doc studied me for a long time. Are you being serious here?

Yes, Doc, I am.

Well, Bock, all I can say is that I’m baffled. You’re doing everything right.

3 replies on “A visit to the doctor”

A healthy and happy New Year to you. Hope you feel better and become more svelte, if that’s your thing.

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