A guy has been in severe pain all over his body for months. Nothing has helped.
At yet another follow-up, he unloads on his doctor.
“Doc, I’ve had CT scans, MRIs, X-rays, and a heart cath. I’ve had an endoscopy, colonoscopy, a dozen biopsies. I’ve given blood, urine, and stool. I’ve been wired up for breathing tests, sleep studies, EKGs, EEGs, even psych evals. I’ve done every medical test under the sun, and I still don’t have a diagnosis. My pain is still debilitating. I’m no better today than I was months ago.”
The doctor nods. “Well, I do have a bit of good news. Your insurance has pre-approved one last test—and it’s guaranteed to tell us what’s wrong.”
“That’s wonderful!” the man cries. “At last! What’s this final test called?”
The doctor smiles. “An autopsy.”
Joke Poo: The Tech Support Call
A programmer has been battling a bizarre bug in their code for weeks. Nothing they’ve tried has worked.
During yet another excruciating tech support call, they unload on the representative.
“I’ve tried debugging with breakpoints, console logging, and remote debugging. I’ve run static analysis, code linters, and memory leak detectors. I’ve done unit tests, integration tests, and end-to-end tests. I’ve checked the logs, the stack trace, and even the system resources. I’ve implemented every possible fix under the sun, and I still don’t know what’s wrong. My application is still crashing. I’m no closer to a solution today than I was weeks ago.”
The tech support representative nods. “Well, I do have a bit of good news. Your premium support package has pre-approved one last step – and it’s guaranteed to tell us what’s wrong.”
“That’s wonderful!” the programmer cries. “At last! What’s this final step called?”
The tech support representative smiles. “Reinstalling Windows.”
Alright, let’s dissect this darkly humorous joke and see what we can build upon.
Joke Deconstruction:
- Core Concept: The humor stems from the irony of finally getting a guaranteed diagnosis, but only after death, rendering it useless to the living patient. It’s a cynical commentary on the inefficiencies, costs, and sometimes futility of modern medicine and insurance bureaucracy.
- Key Elements:
- The Patient’s Suffering: The long list of tests and persistent pain establish the patient’s desperation.
- The Doctor’s Detachment: The doctor’s initially calm demeanor heightens the surprise of the punchline.
- Insurance Pre-Approval: This is a crucial comedic element. Insurance companies are often perceived as obstacles to healthcare, so the pre-approval for an autopsy is absurdly fitting.
- The Punchline (Autopsy): The abrupt and unexpected shift to post-mortem analysis is the crux of the joke.
Comedic Enrichment & New Material:
Let’s focus on the absurdity of insurance pre-approvals for unnecessary or poorly timed procedures.
New Joke:
A man is on his deathbed, surrounded by his family. The doctor walks in, looking grim.
“I’m sorry, folks,” he says. “We’ve done everything we can. There’s nothing left but…” he pauses, pulling out a thick stack of papers, “…this pre-authorization form from the insurance company for a preventative hip replacement.”
The man, barely able to speak, rasps, “But…I’m dying!”
The doctor shrugs, “Hey, pre-authorization is pre-authorization. And technically, not replacing the hip now could lead to problems later. We don’t want them denying coverage then!”
Analysis:
- This joke leverages the same core humor as the original: the bureaucratic rigidity of insurance overriding common sense and human needs.
- It adds the element of preventative medicine and the absurdity of applying that concept to a person who is literally seconds from death.
- It plays on the frustration many have with insurance companies’ focus on cost-cutting, even when it leads to illogical or even cruel outcomes.
Witty Observation:
Did you know? The average human body contains enough iron to make a 3-inch nail. And, thanks to modern medicine and insurance companies, it will likely be needed to hammer the coffin shut, even after we’ve spent a fortune on tests that tell us what’s wrong only after we’re six feet under.