I was seeing a patient in the ER this morning and she seriously would. not. stop. talking. Except she wasn't actually talking about anything pertaining to her hip fracture. She was just talking. Finally I had to say "please stop talking and listen to me for a minute," which is really not the sort of the thing they teach you to do in med school, but desperate situations call for desperate measures.
Patient: So when my daughter was pregnant with my granddaughter, the doctor said my granddaughter didn't have a brain. And the supreme court wanted my daughter to have an abortion! Can you believe that? They would want her to kill my granddaughter!
Me: So, uh, what happened?
Patient: The best thing that could have happened. While my daughter was in labor, my granddaughter died. It was exactly as G-d wanted it and we were so thankful.
...and that was officially the most f*cked up story I heard all day. Which is saying something when your 24-hour time period includes doing a repair of a spaghetti wrist in a 25 year old who claimed to have been on methadone for chronic pain since age 7.