I don’t like Halloween
But I like clinical trials.
Debating whether I got a placebo
Fills my life with smiles.
So in a manner of speaking
Spooky season is still real neat
Because thanks to modern medicine
You still ask “trick or treat?”
Tag Archives: Medicine
For My Beloved Wife On The Occasion Of Her Illness
My girl is sick. She has the ick.
It makes her feel bad.
But she is lucky, ‘cause even when yucky
She’s married to me, her lad.
I make her soup that makes her poop
So all the germs come out,
And then she goes and blows her nose
And snot comes out her snout!
Now free of dreck, my darling Beck
May lay upon our couch.
I am her boulder, her comforting shoulder
For whenever she feels an ouch.
Soon will be when her and me
Go off to bed to sleep
And since she coughed I talk so soft
And help her count the sheep.
And when she wakes, the sound she makes
Is more thunder than snore
But through the night her gut got right;
She’s better than before.
So we repeat until her feet
Are under her anew.
My medical care is extraordinaire
Or so I think. Do you?
Filed under Poems
But In Europe, It’s Free!
I had a headache yesterday
So I went to my doc.
He said I have moderate-to-severe cephalalgia
And I need twice-daily Quperoc.
He said thanks to science
And two tablets twice a day
I would be able to ensure
My headache is gone away.
I might experience side effects
But I didn’t read the fine print.
Now I have no headache
And my skin’s a purplish tint…
I went to the doctor
With a pounding in my head.
Now I have cancer, anal fissures,
Gout, low T, and I am dead.
Filed under Poems
At Least The Pills Are Small
If you’re an ant
And you just can’t
Because of your upset tummy
So you eat a tum
And murmur “yum”
Because you’re not a dummy
But then you’re sad
And feel bad
And wish the pain hadn’t pass-ed
You take a bite
That feels right
Of an ant-anti-antacid.
Filed under Poems
In America!
“An apple a day
“Keeps the doctor away,”
Or so my mama said.
“You’ve got no cash
“So you’ll soon turn to ash,”
Is what doctors say instead.
Filed under Poems
Difficulties In Treating Dyslexia
If you need to do brain surgery
Make sure someone sees ya
‘Cause otherwise you might mix up
Euthanasia and anesthesia.
Filed under Poems
But It Makes One Bicep Look Bigger…
Some of you may believe
That I wear my heart on my sleeve
As a matter of choice,
But don’t heed that voice.
There was a surgeon who’s since taken his leave…
Filed under Poems
Medical Motivation
I’m a proctologist,
Healer of butts.
That much I swear is the truth.
Folks always ask
Why I’ve chosen such work
That so clearly is gross and uncouth.
Some say it’s because
I want to be rich.
Some think I must be gay.
Some say I’ve got
A stick up my butt
And I want you to feel the same way.
Some say I had talent
In medical school
And I’d probably have aced all my classes
If I hadn’t been so
Dedicated and focused
On the likes of my peers and their asses.
Some say I love butts
A little too much
But hadn’t the talent for porn.
The truth is I want
To study in depth
How politicians are born.
Filed under Poems
Find What You Love and Get Paid For It
I used to be the leader
Of a bunch of nasty thugs
Who cut on people’s bodies
And sold a lot of drugs.
But now I’ve finally realized
That those things aren’t cool.
Now I’ll use my skills to prosper
At Harvard Medical School.
Filed under Poems
Malpractice
I went to the doctor.
I was feeling sick.
He hit me with a hammer
And tried to make me kick.
And so I kicked (a bit to hard).
I hope he can still chew…
Now I’ll see if a chiropractor
Can cure my stomach flu.
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 