Mr. Jones gets a call from the hospital. They tell him his wife's been in a
terrible car accident. He rushes to the hospital, runs in to the ER and says
his wife's been in an accident.

They tell him Dr. Smith is handling the case and they page the doctor.

Doc comes out to the waiting room to see a terribly upset Mr. Jones.
"Mr. Jones?" the doctor asks.
"Yes sir, what's happened? How is my wife?"

The doctor sits next to him and says, "Not good news. Your wife's accident
resulted in two fractures of her spine."
"Oh my God" says Mr. Jones, "what will be her prognosis?"

"Well, Mr. Jones, her vital signs are stable. However, her spine is
inoperable. She'll have no motor skills or capability. This means you will
have to feed her."
Mr. Jones begins to sob.

"And you'll have to turn her in her bed every two hours to prevent
pneumonia."
Mr. Jones begins to wail and cry loudly.

"Then, of course," the doctor continued, "you'll have to diaper her as
she'll have no control over her bladder and of course these diapers must be
changed at least five times a day."
Mr. Jones begins to shake as he cries, sobs, wails.

The doctor continues: "And you'll have to clean up her feces on a regular
basis as she'll have no control over her sphincters. Her bowel will engorge
whenever and quite often I'm afraid. Of course you must clean her
immediately to avoid accumulation of the putrid effluent she'll be emitting
regularly."
Now Mr. Jones is convulsing and sobbing uncontrollably and beginning to
wither off the bench into a sobbing pitiful mass.

Just then Dr. Smith reaches out his hand and pats Mr. Jones on the shoulder
and says -
"Hey, I'm just messinging with you, dude...
You don't have to do all that stuff - she's dead!"