Comments by "Edward McLaughlin" (@edwardmclaughlin7935) on "Wow, You Can’t Make This Up..." video.
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An old Irish yarn:
Michael goes to the doctor complaining of strange pains in his chest. The doctor examines him, finding nothing to indicate that treatment is required. He tells Michael all is well but Michael insists something is wrong. Doc' looks at his record, sees a history of similar reports, senses a straight conversation is needed, so sits back and tries to put him at ease.
"Michael, please understand that you are a fit, healthy man in your prime. You need to look to the positive and not dwell on these worries you seem to be having, because this can lead to you thinking you are ill when you are not. The body is a mysterious thing so that if you THINK you are ill you can make yourself feel ill"
Michael goes home, not entirely happy.
A few days later, Micheal's brother Eammon is stopped in the street by the doctor.
"How is that brother of yours, Eammon?"
"Not too good doctor, he won't get out the chair and just moans all the time, won't leave the house even to go put his horses on, this is me now going to the bookies to put him his bets on"
"Ah well you see, he has what we call a 'psychosomatic condition' - excuse my French - which means he makes himself feel unwell because he thinks on it too much. He only THINKS he is ill"
"Right enough he does look to the downside of things - I'll try get him to buck-up. 'He only thinks he's ill' gotcha, I'll keep that in mind"
Another chance meet two days later.
"How is our 'patient' doing then Eammon?"
"I'm having to say he's for the worse doctor. He's taken to his bed and won't stir. He won't eat anything and drinks only the tea I take to him...are you sure he's well?"
"Please, Eammon, remember what I told you, he only th....."
"Yes, yes, he only THINKS he's ill and that's the problem all"
A week later, again the two bump into each other, this time in the butcher's.
"Well now, any improvement with the worrier?"
"Not a bit of it doctor, I'm just here to get some bacon to fry, get the smell of it have him take something. He seems to be just withering away and he now starts with the coughing and all."
"It's difficult I know Eammon but believe me I've seen this before and we have to be patient and persist. He only THINKS he is ill and so his body acts-out being ill."
"Aye doctor, we'll pull him through this together."
A few days later the doctor shuffles into the pub. On seeing Eammon enquires again.
"Tell me then Eammon, did the smell of you frying the rashers do the trick?"
"I had to eat the lot myself" he says, "He never even looked at the plate I took him. The cough is worse and he shivers now even with the extra blanket over him. Could you not just call and........"
"Ah ah ah Eammon" His hand raised, eyes closed and face turned to one side "We must stand firm together. He only THINKS he is unwell"
Eammon necked his whiskey and left without words.
The next day, Eammon is walking past the surgery just as the doctor is setting-out on his rounds.
"What's the news of the fella this day Eammon?"
"Well the truth of it is doctor, he THINKS he's dead"
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