Poetry: Bless My Nurses


They want my brain snot,
and why not? Rosie Rhona Corona
all around, and my blood, IV
goes in and out, needles
in this arm then that. Ouch!

Pressure checked, too high,
stand up and it’s too low.
Count to bloody fourteen,
“pee or we’ll drill for it”—
to prove I’m a well man.

Testing, testing, testing.
Looking good but bend over
butt rush hose to the glory hole.
They’ll fix me man, if they
don’t kill me first.
More blood? Ouches.


Look both ways.
The well-traveled road is the smoothest.
Mind the gaps or no discharge.

19 thoughts on “Poetry: Bless My Nurses

  1. Dear Bill,

    Nothing like being poked, prodded, spindled and mutilated for Medical Science, is there? Or as Arlo so eloquently put it…”hung down, brung down and all kind of mean nasty ugly stuff”… Age? Nah…I’m 18 with 49 years experience. 😉 “Fun” poem.

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Fun read, Bill😂 Humorous take on the medical practices of the times. Three cheers for the nurses who live this daily! Hope your done with all the poking and hoses for awhile 🤗

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Glad you liked it, Sue.
      The anesthesia team are my favs. Before hooking up a large injection of some white substance through my IV, she said, “We call this our piña colada.” That’s the last I remember until I woke up, feeling well. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  3. Having a sense of humour is primordial to dealing with the various indignities done to our person in search of what ails us. And hats off to the nurses who have to do them to you!
    Fun (sorry, should I say that?) poem about not such fun stuff.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Honestly, Dale. It was the best hospital stay I can recall. In for ‘observation’ with a humorous staff makes it very manageable. No indignities. I kept saying “I know the drill.”

      Liked by 1 person

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