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Long Illness
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An Irishman named Murphy went to his doctor after a long illness.
The doctor, after a lengthy examination, sighed and looked Murphy
in the eye and said, "I've some bad new for you ... you have the
cancer and it can't be cured. I'd give you two weeks to a month."
Murphy shocked and saddened by the news, but of solid character,
managed to compose himself and walk from the doctor's office into
the waiting room. There he saw his son who had been waiting.
Murphy said, "Son, we Irish celebrate when things are good and
celebrate when things don't go so well. In this case, things
aren't so well. I have cancer and I've been given a short time
to live. Let's head for the pub and have a few pints. After
three or four pints the two were feeling a little less somber.
There were some laughs and more beers.
They were eventually approached by some of Murphy's old friends
who asked what the two were celebrating. Murphy told them that
the Irish celebrate the good and the bad... He went on to tell
them that they were drinking to his impending end. He told his
friends "I've only got a few weeks to live as I have been
diagnosed with AIDS."
The friends gave Murphy their condolences and they had a couple
more beers.
After his friends left, Murphy's son leaned over and
whispered his confusion..."Dad I thought you said that you were
dying from cancer...? You just told your friends that you were
dying from AIDS?"
Murphy said, "I am dying from cancer son, I just don't want any
of them sleeping with your mother after I'm gone."
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