I knew someone who "had" cervical cancer. Among the many, many yawning holes in her story, the best must have been the time she came out of the loo in a nightclub pretending to cry. When asked, she dramatically revealed that "the cancer is back". Apparently her consultant had just had the results in and had texted her. At 1am. On a Saturday night.
Her other great story went like this (over the course of a number of weeks):
Us: Your ring is lovely.
Her: Yes it is my engagement ring.
Us: Oooh - you're engaged back home? You never said. (she had recently come to the country with her parents)
(a week later)
Her: (sobbing) My fiance has been killed in a terrible industrial accident. He was crushed by falling something-or-other on the factory floor.
Us: OMG
Her: (nobly) I am sending my engagement ring back to [my country] to be buried with him.
(a week later)
Her: (wearing engagement ring)
Us: Weren't you sending that back home to be buried with nameless fiance?
Her: (long pause)
Us: (agog)
Her: Yes, his parents appreciated my gesture so much, that they had an exact copy made of it before it was buried with him, and sent it back to me to remind me of him.
Apart from that she was completely lovely. She's apparently an estate agent now though, which would worry me! 