I had my annual physical today, complete with blood work.

me:  (as blood starts to flow into little tube) Is that the right color for blood?

nurse:  Yes

me:  What would you do if you saw blood come out of someone that was blue or green?  Would you call the FBI and tell them that you had an alien?

nurse:  (without looking up)  No.

I think I would like my nurse to have a little sense of humor.  A little ability to smile.

Or maybe not.  Maybe your health is one of the areas that you don’t want any joking.  I remember a visit to the OB-GYN in my early twenties.  It was only the second time that I had ever been to see the OB-GYN and during the previous year’s visit, he had found a small “fibrous” mass in my breast.  “Nothing to worry about” he assured me.  The next year, when he found it again, he asked me about it — “did we find this last year?”  “yes”, I said.  “Well,” he said, chuckling, “it must not have been serious, or you’d be dead by now.”  That was not a sense of humor.  That was bad taste.

Maybe this nurse has an excellent sense of humor and she just didn’t think that I was funny.

Nah, I don’t think it was that.