"So," the doctor says, "her treatment's not going well. You might find it a bit of a shock when you come in. Try to be as natural as possible." He squeezes the man's shoulder in sympathy.
They come in together into her room and she's lying in bed weak and disheveled.
"How you doing, Sally?" The man asks in an upbeat voice.
"Oh, Rog, it's just awful. I got these sores, everything hurts everywhere, and just look at my hair!" She reaches up and pulls a clump out to show him.
The man stood dumbfounded not knowing what to say. After a time too long the doc ribbed him with an elbow and gave an urgent look.
"Well," he paused. "At least I don't have to pay the hairdresser no more."
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