Me: I think I may need medical attention. I looked at a recipe this morning for some Greek feta chicken pocket thing and I didn't pin it because I thought it sounded too cheesy. So that's, what, a stroke or a brain tumor?
Raj: Have you been having wahWAHwah*? Because if it were a stroke, you would.
*Not really what he said, just what I retain from listening to medical terminology. This results from a condition known as having lived with three doctors and endured medical dinner conversation every night for six months.
Raj: I know what it is. The cure is mushrooms.
Me: I don't think...
Raj: No, I know. That's the cure. I'm a doctor.
Me: Well then, I'll miss you. When I'm dead.