The Most Creative Excuses You’ve Heard From Patients (That You Secretly Admired)

Because Sometimes, You Just Have to Respect the Hustle

As physicians, we develop a deep familiarity with patient behavior. Over the years, we get better at decoding subtle cues—shifts in tone, fleeting eye movements, long pauses, and the unmistakable moment just before a particularly imaginative explanation unfolds. These are not just excuses; they are the patient’s attempts to avoid shame, delay confrontation, or sidestep an uncomfortable truth.

But here’s the thing: sometimes, the excuse is so hilariously creative, so unusually well-constructed, that you can't help but admire the patient—not for the lie, but for the sheer effort.

This isn’t about glorifying dishonesty. It’s about the very human, very relatable way that people try to navigate illness, fear, embarrassment, or uncertainty. In the clinic or the ER, we're trained to remain composed, objective, clinical. But inside, many of us are thinking, “That was ridiculous… and kind of brilliant.”

Let’s dive into a list of some of the most inspired excuses patients have used—and what they reveal about human nature, fear, resilience, and sometimes, humor in healthcare.

The “My Dog Ate My Medication” Classic (But Make It Multispecies)

A patient once claimed their parrot knocked their pill bottle off the kitchen counter, and the dog immediately devoured the contents. With complete seriousness, they added, “Now the dog is more regular than I am.”

Was it true? Probably not. But the chain of events—parrot to pill to pooch—was creative enough to disarm even the sternest physician.

Secret admiration factor: 9/10. Coordination between species? That’s commitment.

“I Only Smoke When I’m Stressed… and It’s Been a Stressful Decade”

You gently ask a patient about the tobacco odor lingering on their clothes. “Oh, I don’t smoke,” they begin confidently, “except when I’m stressed.”

Then, without missing a beat: “And honestly, I’ve been stressed since 1997. So technically, it’s one cigarette break that hasn’t ended.”

Secret admiration factor: 8/10. Illogical? Yes. But undeniably self-aware and delivered with impressive calm.

“My Cousin’s Baby Mama’s Sister Said It Was Natural”

One patient showed up with lab results that looked like a pharmaceutical chemistry experiment. Upon questioning, they explained their supplement choices were based on advice from a distant relative’s in-law, who “knows a lot about natural healing.”

Apparently, elderberry syrup mixed with turmeric and apple cider vinegar can cure almost anything. And don’t forget the lemon soaked in Himalayan salt.

Secret admiration factor: 7/10. Not FDA-approved, but the confidence? 100%.

The Missing Appointment That Was Actually a Vision Quest

When asked why they missed their follow-up appointment, one patient said, “I needed to reconnect with myself. So I went on a solo retreat in the desert. Phones don’t work in spiritual vortexes.”

That explains the absence, and possibly the incense smell in their clothes.

Secret admiration factor: 10/10. Lab tests postponed, but spiritual health? Recalibrated.

“I Can’t Take Pills Because Mercury is in Retrograde”

One patient refused to start a critical course of antibiotics due to the planetary misalignment.

“Mercury’s in retrograde,” they explained, “and nothing settles right in the body during this time. I’ll start them next week when the energy is right.”

Your clinical brain screams. But your inner anthropologist takes notes.

Secret admiration factor: 8/10. Strong celestial confidence. No pharmacokinetics, all vibes.

“I Didn’t Take My Medication Because I Was Saving It”

An elderly patient stopped taking antibiotics midway. Their reasoning?

“Well, I felt better after three days. So I saved the rest. In case I need them later, when I’m really sick.”

Apparently, pneumonia didn’t qualify as “really sick.”

Secret admiration factor: 7/10. Economical instincts. But we’d still prefer they finished the course.

The Reverse Psychology Patient

A man with borderline cholesterol proudly declared he had been “experimenting” to see what high cholesterol felt like.

“I’ve been adding bacon grease to my coffee. I want to know what risk feels like. For science.”

Do you reprimand or invite him to a clinical trial?

Secret admiration factor: 9/10. Bold, confusing, slightly terrifying—but scientifically curious.

“I Read That If You Don’t Acknowledge the Symptom, It Can’t Hurt You”

You follow up on a complaint of chronic abdominal discomfort.

“Oh, that?” they respond. “I decided to stop talking about it. If I ignore it, it doesn’t exist. Like my student loans.”

Secret admiration factor: 8/10. Magical thinking meets financial denial. Who among us can judge?

“I Would’ve Fasted for My Blood Test, But I Forgot Today Was Today”

This might be the most philosophically accurate excuse.

The patient looked at you with sincere regret and said, “I just… didn’t realize today was today.”

What do you even say to that?

Secret admiration factor: 10/10. Time is subjective. And breakfast was worth it.

The “Invisible Trauma” That Delayed Everything

You ask why a patient didn’t show up for a cancer screening. Their response?

“Every time I go near the hospital, I remember that episode of Grey’s Anatomy where they all died. I can’t handle that energy again.”

You start to laugh but realize they’re dead serious.

Secret admiration factor: 6/10. Trauma via TV? Apparently valid. At least it’s honest.

The Pharmaceutical Reversal

A young man quit his antihypertensive medication. When asked why, he revealed he looked up the compound online.

“It contains something that sounds like it’s in dish soap. I don’t want to clean my arteries with detergent.”

After a futile pharmacology lesson, you realize: He’s convinced.

Secret admiration factor: 6/10. He Googled. He panicked. He acted. Terribly.

“My Horoscope Said No Needles This Month”

You recommend a flu shot. The patient declines with a whisper: “My chart is vulnerable this lunar cycle. Needles now would mess with my aura.”

You consider rebuttal. Then remember—there’s no ICD-10 code for moon-phase needle aversion.

Secret admiration factor: 9/10. Stellar commitment to astrology-based care plans.

What These Excuses Teach Us (Beyond Patience)

Every laughable excuse is still rooted in something real: fear, embarrassment, trauma, or misunderstanding. These moments remind us that patients don’t always lie to deceive—they often lie to cope.

Some are trying to avoid being shamed for non-compliance. Others are asserting independence in a system that often feels overwhelming. Many don’t know the difference between bad advice and good medicine—and don’t want to admit it.

Even the most absurd excuses often carry deeper meanings:

• A patient skipping medication may be afraid of side effects they don’t understand.
  
  
• The one obsessed with holistic remedies might have seen a loved one harmed by pharmaceuticals.
  
  
• The astrology devotee? Maybe they just want a sense of control over something they don’t fully grasp.

And sometimes… they’re just trying to be funny. And that, too, is human.

How to Respond Without Ruining the Relationship

As much as these moments amuse us, they’re also critical junctions in the doctor-patient relationship. The way you respond matters.

Here’s what works:

• Laugh with the patient, not at them
  
  
• Use the moment to build trust, not shame
  
  
• Redirect the creativity toward adherence and safety
  
  
• Validate the patient’s feelings—even if the facts are wrong
  
  
• Gently but clearly explain the medical risks
  
  
• Document reality, not the myth, unless it has clinical relevance

Sometimes, you’ll convert the excuse into a lesson. Other times, you’ll let it pass and focus on building rapport for future change.

Final Word: Humor is a Bridge, Not a Barrier

As clinicians, our job is serious. But life, and patients, often aren’t. There’s wisdom in letting humor soften the rough edges of confrontation.

Yes, we must challenge misinformation. We must advocate for science. But we can also take a quiet moment to appreciate the bizarre beauty of a patient blaming Mercury retrograde for antibiotic non-adherence.

Because medicine isn’t just about treatment plans and lab values—it’s about people.

And people, as every doctor eventually learns, are wonderfully, wildly, and sometimes hilariously human.