Banta
thought he was dead, but in reality he was very much alive. His
delusion became such a problem that his family finally paid for him to
see a psychiatrist.
The psychiatrist spent many laborious sessions trying to convince Banta that he is still alive. Nothing seemed to work.
Finally the doctor tried one last approach. He took out his medical books and proceeded to show Banta that dead men don't bleed. After hours of tedious study, Banta seemed convinced that dead men don't bleed.
"Do you now agree that dead men don't bleed?" the doctor asked.
"Yes, I do," Banta replied.
"Very well, then," the doctor said.
He took out a pin and pricked the patient's finger. Out came a trickle of blood.
The doctor asked, "What does that tell you?"
"Oh my goodness!" Banta exclaimed as he stared incredulously at his finger ... "Dead men do bleed!!"
The psychiatrist spent many laborious sessions trying to convince Banta that he is still alive. Nothing seemed to work.
Finally the doctor tried one last approach. He took out his medical books and proceeded to show Banta that dead men don't bleed. After hours of tedious study, Banta seemed convinced that dead men don't bleed.
"Do you now agree that dead men don't bleed?" the doctor asked.
"Yes, I do," Banta replied.
"Very well, then," the doctor said.
He took out a pin and pricked the patient's finger. Out came a trickle of blood.
The doctor asked, "What does that tell you?"
"Oh my goodness!" Banta exclaimed as he stared incredulously at his finger ... "Dead men do bleed!!"
