I was sick the other day.
I still am, I'm sad to say.
Headaches and sinuses plugged.
Feel somewhat better when I am drugged.
Went to a doctor and got some pills.
In the middle of the night I got the chills.
Shivering away but didn't feel cold.
Checked my temperature and behold
Ninety-six degrees in the oral way.
Took some aspirins and nasal spray.
Morning came and I felt worse.
Went to another doctor and took my purse.
Keep taking the pills, she said to me,
And drink lots of fluids so you can pee.
Five vials of blood were taken from my arm.
Hurried home so I could stay warm.
The first result said I was lacking salt.
I'm a big salt eater, so It's not my fault.
Later results said Lime disease was negative,
but the test for West Nile virus was positive.
But that was for a past exposure,
Don't know what I have, so I have no closure.
I thank you all for your support. Poetry comes when it comes (and so does sickness) . I assume it will pass before I do.
Being sick is no fun, I know, especially when you don't know what's wrong with you. Follow Kelly's advice.
dont know what i hve, ......... salt. salt eater. i lack salt... virus...... so many things come in this great poem. first i thought it is satirical..... doctors, their inability to diagnose....... thank you very much. dear poet. tony
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I wrote, A friend is sick and here you are. Your verses are great and feelings are tensed. I like it. I will rate it 10.
Thanks Chan. I appreciate your compliment and vote.