Try to imagine it as Neelix is your brother-in-law - the brother-in-law that you can't stand. You dread any thought of having to share a day with this guy. But there are times when, say, there's a huge party or something and you can spend time with other people, and you only see him for a few minutes at a time, and during those times he's not acting like a complete twerp. And you can admit "Okay, well, he's not completely without any redeeming qualities," right?
And then one day, one day comes along and you're told "oh no, haven't you heard? He's got a terminal disease. He is not long for this world." And... you're not heartless: you care. And when asked "Can he spend a week at your place, so that he can be close to the hospital for some treatments?" you go along with that because you know it's the decent thing to do. Have you no empathy after all? Of course you'll do it! To not care in the midst of that suffering? Pah. 'Course not!
...only after the first few hours realizing he's dying, you realize also... that he's still a jackass. And you can't tell anyone he's a jackass, because that's insensitive - he's dying! You can't call the dying man a jackass just because he does something only a jackass would do! But yet, it's everything you despised about him running on a loop 24/7, until by day five, you see him on the couch... using the blanket your dead mother knitted for you as a napkin, watching pay-per-view wrestling, and spilling your last beer all over that autographed Terry Pratchett novel of yours, and you finally say to him, "Good news! You're not gonna believe this: you're not dying of a terminal disease... because I'm going to fucking kill you FIRST!"
—SF Debris, reviewing "Mortal Coil"
Colonel: There's a big annoying lump in my bed.
Nurse Dawson: There is. (Beat) I mean, er, there is?
Sir Roderick: There's absolutely nothing wrong with you. Except Hypochondria. You just like talking to doctors.
Fusspot: That's absolute nonsense. I demand a ninth opinion.
Asa: Shepard, I'm not letting you get up until I'm satisfied you're fully recovered. No matter how aggravating, obnoxious, and downright rude you become.
Shepard: I'll remind you that you said that.
"I want me medicine!"
— Mrs. Wilkins, Doctor at Large
Rosemary: Are you sure I've not been a burden to you all?
Nodoka: Of course not. This is a hospital. We're here because you need medical care.
Rosemary: (Beat) But, you would tell me if I was being troublesome, right?
Nodoka: Mari-chan, trust me, after having to give Mepple his annual flu shot, taking care of you is a blessing.
Rosemary: Oh... You're absolutely certain it's not a pain to look after me?
Nodoka: Mari-chan! The only way you're being annoying is constantly asking us if we're annoying you!
Nodoka: Of course not. This is a hospital. We're here because you need medical care.
Rosemary: (Beat) But, you would tell me if I was being troublesome, right?
Nodoka: Mari-chan, trust me, after having to give Mepple his annual flu shot, taking care of you is a blessing.
Rosemary: Oh... You're absolutely certain it's not a pain to look after me?
Nodoka: Mari-chan! The only way you're being annoying is constantly asking us if we're annoying you!
Wendover: Just a minute. I 'ope your 'ands are clean.
Sir Lancelot: Don't be impertinent! Learn to control your tongue or I'll have you discharged from this hospital forthwith!
Wendover: Is that a threat? Are you threatenin' me? That's nice, innit? I'm on me deathbed an' I'm bein' threatened. I bet you wouldn't talk to me like that if I was royalty, if I 'ad a crown 'round me 'ead.
Sir Lancelot: You are not royalty.
Wendover: No, I know I'm not. I'm just a bit of cannon fodder what fought for King and country an' is now become a guinea pig for the medical profession. All right then, if that's what you want, you want everybody to see my stomach? 'Ere, Nurse, come an' 'ave a look at this. An' the rest of ya can come an' play naughts an' crosses all over it. Come on!
John: I shouldn't be 'ere at all, an' why did they take my fishin' tackle away?
Nurse Catty: Because this isn't a holiday resort, it's Lenton Sanatorium for the Treatment of TB.
John: Ah, well, I'm not 'ere for treatment. I wanna see the boss.
Nurse Catty: Given a little time, Mr. Rhodes, I can probably arrange for you to see the Minister of Health, but only if you get into bed.
