IS IT URGENT?

 

I awake unwell with swollen glands

With fevered brow and sweaty hands

I shake and shiver and cough and sneeze

I sweat and flush and choke and wheeze

I mutter and mumble and grunt and groan

As I struggle downstairs to find the phone

I first call work to let them know

To the office today I will not show

And then the doctor’s line I dial

A stern voice answers in a while

“What name”? Is the curt response?

An appointment please I say at once

Well, is it urgent? She retorts

Well, I’m not dying just out of sorts

You can see a doctor in three weeks time

I hope to be better by then I chime

Shall I book you an appointment then?

No if I’m not better I’ll call again.

But I'll say to you without offence

If I’m still ill in three weeks hence

I’ll eat my hat till I eat my fill

For I will never ever have been so ill