In Hospital For A Bad Case Of Lesbianism

(I’m on vacation and I go to the hospital because I am sick. I’m female and my hair is only one centimeter long. A patient’s sister comes to me.)

Patient’s Sister: “Hey, what kind of cancer did you have? My sister is your age and has breast cancer. The doctor has two chemotherapy treatments and we don’t know which is better. Are you familiar with [treatments]?”

Me: “Um, no. It’s better you discuss it with the doctor. I know nothing about breast cancer.”

Patient’s Sister: “Oh, okay, I guess you had a different cancer, then. Good luck with your recovery.”

Me: “No, I never had any cancer. I’m here because I have a cold.”

Patient’s Sister: “But you’re nearly bald.”

Me: “So you just assumed I had chemotherapy?”

Patient’s Sister: “Oh, I’m so sorry. Then that means you’re a lesbian.”

Me: *sigh* “Okay, yes.”

Patient’s Sister: “I understand. Sorry for the assumption, then.”

(No, I’m not a lesbian, either, but I didn’t want to argue.)