I've got how long?

Doctor says very slowly and gravely "I'm sorry, you don't have long to live. You only have about er ten.." Quickly the man interrupts and demands "What? Years, Months, Weeks?" The doctor continues "Nine..Eight..Seven" I told this joke to my consultant when I could see in his eyes that he wasn't about to tell me I'd won the lottery. I told a similar one in French when I was first diagnosed. This may seem a flippant or even stupid way to deal with a life threatening situation. If it was bravado or bluster I would agree however my personal theory goes like this. The guy in the white coat, on the other side of the desk, gets up several days of the week, knowing he is going to have to tell people that their life will end prematurely. No amount of cash, free stethoscopes or drugs can make that a good way to wake up. He wants to do his best for you, he will use all of his hard learned skills, so please give the poor sod a break. My experience is that he needs to laugh as much as you. Help him. Enjoy life. All of it. Even the crap. LAUGH! I also found with one consultant (they are often little Gods with their minions) that when I wound up this internationally known surgeon about his shaky hands, incompetence and frequent visits to the golf course, it put him and his whole department in an amiable frame of mind. He is a 20 hour a day, 7 day a week guy who is incredibly skilled. He is also a human being.