Sunday, May 22, 2011

Let's call it, a poem.

Okay, so this might be a tad overdramatic. But, it's the truth. Now I'm off to go blow my nose. . . .

Dear, Dr. Doctor

There’s a pain in my side.
Right under my
Xiphoid Process
and between my numbers 6 and 7
floating ribs.
But it’s not the
“Ah, my side hurts
from running
around the gym in P.E.
because I’m out of shape,”
type of pain.
it’s actual
Like, the type of pain
that makes you want to
stab yourself in the arm
just so you have something else
to pay attention to.

It’s annoying
the crap out of me,
mostly because
there seems to be no cure.
I swear,
if you  prescribe me
another inhaler
to fix the chronic pain in my side,
I’m going to burn your office down.
Inhalers don’t fix everything
Explain to me,
Dr. Doctor,
how an inhaler
is going to make
the pain in my side
go away,
and make the world
a better place.

I have a pain in my side
that might kill me. 
So make sure
you have plenty of money saved up
to pay my parents,
who are going to sue you
for a million dollars
to pay for my funeral costs
for not doing a single thing
about my problem.
Oh, and
be prepared
for me to slap that cheesy smile
off your face.

Love always,
your most patient patient.


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