As I'm getting my port accessed by the nurse, doc happens to walk by the room and tells me I made a sour face.
"I have a lot of sour faces," I reply.
Doc: No, not usually. This one was an extraordinarily sour face.
"Well, I didn't feel anything."
Doc: But that's because you made a sour face.
Last week in the midst of my Benadryl-induced sleep I vaguely heard the doctor yelling at a patient in the back, "Mr. Barnhardt, wake up! Talk to me, Mr. Barnhardt." The patient was unresponsive, apparently, and I remember hearing them call 911 for an ambulance.
At some point after that, the doc walked through the waiting room (which is also the chemo infusion area) and looked around at all the patients, who were basically fast asleep, and I heard him say, "Everyone is so tense in my waiting room."
Somehow I slept through the arrival of the ambulance and the paramedics coming in. I only know this because I later asked the nurse if an ambulance had come. That is some deep Benadryl sleep!
Doc tells a family member in the waiting room: You're not pacing. You can pace all you want, as long as you don't smoke.
Family member: I haven't smoked in 15 years!
The husband of a patient stands up from the couch and approaches the doc in the waiting room.
Mr. Watson: I am interested in biochemistry and cancer now that I am in my 70s.
Doc (deadpan): ... uh-huh.
Mr. Watson: There are chlorine fumes when you are taking a shower.
Doc: ... uh ...
Mr. Watson: They can irritate the airway passages and create inflammation ...
Doc (interrupting): Mr. Watson, you're a nice guy, but I'm not going to let you talk about chlorine.
The doc turns around and walks out of the room.
The doc sees me with my cell phone, which is a very basic one, and says: You're the only one I know that still has a cell phone like mine.
He looks again and says: Oh, no. Yours is even fancier. It has a screen on the outside.