ABSTRACT
There is a series of jokes which commonly begin with the words ‘Doctor, Doctor’. (There is little point in reciting these now, although some might argue that they would be a good deal more interesting than the essay which follows.) They have as a central theme some form of flippant rejection, by the doctor, of the complaint reported by the patient. As with much in humour, these jokes may hint at an area of concern or vulnerability which many of us share. In the nature of things, doctors may be strangers to us, and yet we must confide in them information which we would share perhaps with no one else, or certainly only with those with whom we are most intimate. The dismissive reaction of the doctor in all of these jokes is the realisation of our worst fears-that rather than take us seriously, the doctor might laugh at our petty or mistaken concerns, or hold us up to wider ridicule.
