A new miracle doctor was in town.
He could cure anything and anybody, and everyone was amazed with what he can do except for Bhola, the town’s grouch.
So Bhola went to this ‘Miracle Doctor’ to prove that he wasn’t so miraculous.
He goes and tells the doctor, “Hey, doc, I have lost my sense of taste. I can’t taste nothing, so what are you going to do?”
The doctor scratches his head and mumbles to himself a little, then tell Bhola, “What you need is jar number 43.”
“Jar number 43?”, Bhola wonders.
So the doctor leaves and after five minutes brings a jar and tells Bhola to taste it.
He tastes it and immediately spits it out, “This is Shit!” he yells.
“I just restored your sense of taste Bhola,” says the doctor.
So Bhola goes home very mad.
One month later, Bhola goes back to the doctor along with a new problem, “Doc,” he starts, “I can’t remember!”
Thinking he got the doctor, the doctor scratches his head and mumbles to himself a little. Then tells Bhola, “What you need is jar number 43…”
Before the doctor finished his sentence, Bhola fled the office.
A woman went to her doctor’s office.
She was seen by one of the new doctors, but after about 4 minutes in the examination room, she burst out screaming and ran down the hall.
An older doctor stopped her and asked what the problem was, and she explained.
He had her sit down and relax in another room.
The older doctor marched back to the first and demanded, “What’s the matter with you? Mrs. Terry is 63 years old, she has four grown children and seven grandchildren, and you told her she was pregnant?”
The new doctor smiled smugly as he continued to write on his clipboard.
“Cured her hiccups though, didn’t it?”
A man hasn’t been feeling well, so he goes to his doctor for a complete checkup.
Afterward, the doctor comes out with the results.
“I’m afraid I have some very bad news,” the doctor says. “You’re dying, and you don’t have much time left.”
“Oh, that’s terrible!” says the man. “How long have I got?”
“Ten,” the doctor says sadly.
“Ten?” the man asks. “Ten what? Months? Weeks? What?!”
“Nine…”
A well-respected surgeon was relaxing on his sofa one evening just after arriving home from work.
As he was tuning into the evening news, the phone rang. The doctor calmly answered it and heard the familiar voice of a colleague on the other end of the line.
“We need a fourth for poker,” said the friend.
“I’ll be right over,” whispered the doctor.
As he was putting on his coat, his wife asked, “Is it serious?”
“Oh yes, quite serious,” said the doctor gravely. “In fact, three doctors are there already!”
