Medical Prognosis Quotes

After my first knee operation, in January of '65 before I went to the Jets, Dr. James Nicholas told me everything went well and that I could probably play four years in the NFL. The surgery was trailblazing to a certain extent.

When the headache persisted, I checked myself into an emergency room. When the doctor used the term 'brain tumour', I feared the worst. My whole world shrank around me.

When my little son, Prince, had health issues as a baby, we were told that he had a 20 percent chance of survival.

Whoo-hoo-hoo, look who knows so much. It just so happens that your friend here is only MOSTLY dead. There's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead. Mostly dead is slightly alive. With all dead, well, with all dead there's usually only one thing you can do. Go through his clothes and look for loose change.

'Incurable' is a tough word. So is 'terminal.'

You can believe the diagnosis, not the prognosis.

In the patient who succumbed, the cause of death was evidently something which was not found in the patient who recovered; this something we must determine, and then we can act on the phenomena or recognize and foresee them accurately. But not by statistics shall we succeed in this; never have statistics taught anything, and never can they teach anything about the nature of the phenomenon.

Janie’s hip buzzes again. Maybe she'll have to have her whole leg amputated, she thinks sadly. That would really suck.

To be diagnosed was the hardest thing because I didn't know what they were talking about... And the doctor said, Don't worry, in three months you'll know. So I went about my business and then, one day, it jumped me. I couldn't get up... Your muscles trick you; they did me.

After going through a lot of procedures and spending a lot of money … the doctor said, ‘Look, based on what we’re seeing here, I just don’t think this is going to happen for you.'

I was not at all worried about finding my doctor boring; I expected from him, thanks to an art of which the laws escaped me, that he pronounce concerning my health an indisputable oracle by consulting my entrails.

The doctor unfortunately said I was fit.

I know three people who have got better after a brain tumour. I haven't heard of anyone who's got better from Alzheimer's.

The three most celebrated doctors on the island have been to see me. One sniffed at what I spat, the second tapped where I spat from, and the third sounded me and listened as I spat. The first said I was dead, the second that I was dying and the third that I'm going to die.

Is there no hope? the sick man said, The silent doctor shook his head, And took his leave with signs of sorrow, Despairing of his fee to-morrow.

Right, well, he'd been sick for a while and his nurse said to him, 'You seem to be feeling better this morning,' and Isben looked at her and said, 'On the contrary,' and then he died.

There is no health; physicians say that we, at best, enjoy but neutrality.

I was told I wouldn't live past 30 or have children.

When the news broke that John McCain had been diagnosed with brain cancer, the outpouring of well wishes all hailed his toughness.

Maybe I don't have the most common kind of motor neuron disease, which usually kills in two or three years.

You know, there are no guarantees on prognosis.

I was told that I would be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life.

If you're unable to catch it in time, the cancer can spread to the lymph nodes and at that point, the cancer is essentially incurable, but that doesn't mean your condition can't be improved.

Some persons will tell you, with an air of the miraculous, that they recovered although they were given over; whereas they might with more reason have said, they recovered because they were given over.

When doctors tell you that your only hope for survival is 14 straight days of intense chemotherapy, 24 hours a day, you sit there, and you count down the 336 hours. You see, each day is a blessing.