‘... you doctors aren’t supposed to hurt people, are you?’
‘Only in the course of normal incompetence.’ (NW)
‘Only in the course of normal incompetence.’ (NW)
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'That's not medicine. That's just a way of keeping people amused while they're ill.' (CP)
... the problem with bandaging an orangutan's head is knowing when to stop. (LH)
'Willow bark,' said the Bursar.
'That's a good idea,' said the Lecturer of Recent Runes. 'It's an analgesic.' 'Really? Well, possibly, though it's probably better to give it to him by mouth,' said Ridcully. (H) She'd long ago been resigned to the fact that people expected a bottle of something funny-coloured and sticky. It wasn't the medicine that did the trick though. It was, in a way, the spoon. (Ma)
'What's up with him?’ said Masklin.
Granny Morkie started to roll bandages in a businesslike way. No one needed them, but she believed in having a good supply. Enough for the whole world, apparently. ‘He’s having to think’’ she said. ‘That always worries people.' (Truck) ‘ … there is also the possibility of becoming a matron if you reach the specified weight.’ (Sn)
Djelibebi really was a small self-centred kingdom. Even its plagues were half-hearted. All self-respecting river kingdoms have vast supernatural plagues, but the best the Old Kingdom had been able to achieve
in the last hundred years was the Plague of the Frog*. *It was quite a big frog, however, and got into the air ducts and kept everyone awake for weeks. (P) ... Sister Mary was a nurse and nurses, whatever their creed, are primarily nurses, which had a lot to do with wearing your watch upside down, keeping calm in emergencies, and dying for a cup of tea. (GO)
Granny’s remedies, made from simple, honest and generally nearly poisonous herbs and roots, were amazing things.
After one dose of stomach-ache jollop, you made sure you never complained of stomach ache ever again. In its way, it was a sort of cure. (Truck) 'Incidentally, it’s wisest not to argue with the nursing staff. I find the wisest course of action is to throw some chocolates in one direction and hurry off in the other while their attention is distracted.' (GP)
... he had his name on a plate on his desk, because doctors are very busy and can’t remember everything ... (GP)
'They’re holding me pris’ner, sir! They gived me a trouserectomy, sir!' (GP)
'Do you want me to get a doctor?’
‘Are you mad? We want him to live!' (FC) 'He’s dead. All the medical tests prove it. So, er…bury him, keep him nice and cool, and tell him to come and see me next week. In daylight for preference.’
‘But he’s still breathing!’ ‘These are just reflex actions that might easily confuse the layman,’ said the doctor airily. (P) 'A case of mortis portalis tackulum with complications.’
‘What’s that mean?’ said Chidder. ‘In laymen’s terms,’ the doctor sniffed, ‘he’s as dead as a doornail.’ ‘What are the complications?’ The doctor looked shifty. ‘He’s still breathing,’ he said. (P) 'That’s the biggest part of doct’rin, really. Most people’ll get over most things if they put their minds to it, you just have to give them an interest. (ER)
Ankh-Morpork did not have many hospitals. All the Guilds maintained their own sanitariums, and there were a few public ones run by the odder religious organizations, like the Balancing Monks, but by and large medical assistance was nonexistent and people had to die inefficiently, without the aid of doctors. It was generally thought that the existence of cures encouraged slackness and was in any case probably against Nature’s way. (GG)
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