05/21/2026 from Daily Jokes
#22179
It was a quiet Tuesday morning at Dr. Patterson’s family practice. The waiting room smelled faintly of antiseptic and lavender air freshener.
Magazines from three different years sat neatly stacked on the coffee table. Robert sat on the exam table, swinging his legs slightly, while his wife, Linda, waited patiently in the hallway, flipping through a brochure about heart health.
After a thorough checkup—blood pressure, reflexes, a few gentle prods and thoughtful questions—Dr. Patterson stepped out and asked Linda to join him in his office. Alone.
He closed the door softly, sat behind his desk, and folded his hands. His expression was serious, but kind.
“Linda,” he began, voice low and measured. “Your husband is suffering from a very severe stress-related disorder. It’s more advanced than I’d like. If we don’t address this carefully, the consequences could be… serious.”
Linda’s breath caught. “What do we do?”
Dr. Patterson leaned forward slightly. “If you follow my instructions precisely, I believe he can recover fully. But it will take commitment.
Patience. And consistency.”
He handed her a neatly typed list.
“Each morning,” he continued, “prepare him a healthy, balanced breakfast. Oatmeal, fruit, maybe an egg. Nothing heavy. Be pleasant when you serve it. A smile goes a long way.”
“For lunch, pack him a nutritious meal. Lean protein, whole grains, vegetables. No processed snacks.”
“For dinner, I want you to prepare something special. Not fancy—just warm, comforting, and made with care. He needs to feel valued.”
He paused, making sure she was following.
“Don’t burden him with household chores. Don’t discuss your worries or frustrations with him—it will only add to his stress. Do not nag. Not about the dishes, not about the trash, not about anything.”
He took a slow breath.
“And most importantly… make time for intimacy. Regular, affectionate, stress-relieving connection. It’s medically necessary.”
He looked her in the eye.
“If you can do this—consistently—for the next ten months to a year… I truly believe your husband will regain his health completely.”
Linda nodded slowly, absorbing every word. She tucked the list into her purse, thanked the doctor, and stepped back into the hallway.
On the drive home, the car was quiet. Robert kept glancing at his wife, noticing her thoughtful expression.
Finally, he asked gently, “So… what did the doctor say?”
Linda kept her eyes on the road. Her hands rested calmly on the steering wheel. She paused just long enough to let the moment settle.
Then, with perfect, serene delivery, she replied:
“He said you’re going to die.”
