Hands stuck in his jeans pockets, he comes up to her bedside, his expression between a smile and a sympathetic wince.

"Oh, I've been-- drifting along fine, too, I guess, but never mind about me. I mean, Jeezus Christ, honey, there's easier ways of doing an impression of King Tut."

A beat.

"King Tut. Mummy. Bandages. Yeah, never mind."

Humor is the best medicine! Even bad humor.