Mr. Frobisher constantly called Dr. Wilson at all hours of the day and night and would then keep him on the phone with a litany of imagined ailments.   

Finally the doctor could take it no longer. "Listen, Mr. Frobisher, if you wake me up again in the middle of the night with another one of your tales about some made-up ailment, I am going to insist you see another physician. Have I made myself clear?"   

A week later, Mr. Frobisher slipped and fell down a flight of stairs, breaking his hip, two ribs, an elbow, and suffering a concussion. He was rushed to the hospital and put in intensive care.   

An hour later, Dr. Wilson walked in, saw his condition, and exclaimed "I think you're finally getting the hang of it!"