My doc with precision and poise,

Befitting of a man in his position,

Was ever so immaculate;

When performing upon my belly

“Just a touch of the Ultra Sound, 

For you Old Fella.”

Where as he quickly followed up,

“You have a little bit of a gall stone;

And some fatty tissue too

Is found to be around your liver,

Nothing really Old Chap,

And nothing to get yourself into a flap,

And your hemorrhoids, 

Are fine!

Just fine!

Just fine Old Son!

Oh gosh! I remembered it well

Another close call

For this little black duck.

 

I took the news;

With heartwarming relief, 

‘Twas just another thing

In the life of one’s battles,

Against sickness,

The plague,

And the common cold,

Day to day infestations, 

These things I like to call them,

Is my roll call of inconveniences?

This would even make

A hypochondriac smile, 

And breakout in to doing a tap dance.

 

Tonsils of me throat,

I never realized

Could be plain old ever so bloody sore.

Then “arse over turkey”

In the shower I pirouetted!

When coming down from ceiling, 

I ended up

With a broken arm received.

Coming off another account; 

Of a broken leg,

Collected from a game of rugby, 

And courtesy of a collapsed scrum,

But not before my hooter

Got smashed and twisted! 

Into a ridiculous funny looking position;

Courtesy of some other mongrel’s

Well aimed intentional fist.

 

But then you know,

That winters come

And winters go,

Furthermore to be sure,

To be sure,

And so does the bleeding flue!

Which comes and enters in

A person’s pain racked body,

With this bleeding irritating infection;

And what about the pain upon one’s chest,

And furthermore! 

Give it a sobering thought, 

Sore back,

Irritating coughs,

Pain up high,

Pain down low,

And somewhere in the “hey diddle-diddle,”

Bleeding nuisance when picking up sticks.

 

Ultra sounds,

X-rays,

E.C.G’s,

E.E.G’s,

Sleep Apnea tests,

Body pumped full of chemical dyes,

Pregnancy tests,

And would you believe? 

And so it bloody should, 

Came back negative.

And furthermore for me,

To have a handshake

With my best mate,

After unzipping my zipper,

Into the peeing position

I have to stand.

 

Test after bloody test!

I near on had the ruddy lot,

For in my chest;

There was a heart that went plop,

And beat out real loud,

Tick! Tock! Tick! Tock! Tickitytock

This made bloody sense

When you thought about!

Then after careful consideration,

The next prognosis; 

'Twas me brain

Was in its correct position.

Then my lung report

After many years of abuse,

Of two packs a day

Came back “All Clear!”

Whew! What a bleeding relief!

 

So then in life’s little adventures

And some call them mishaps;

When battling chronic PAIN!

In the space of a few minutes,

Life can throw up some bobby dazzlers,

And furthermore!

There is this ONE!

Which are head and shoulders?

Of other types

And kinds of pain,

Hurts,

Child birth,

Whingeing,

And throw in for good measure

Chronic fatigue,

But in the course of living day by day;

There is not ONE thing!

Which compares

Or gives you an ample warning,

That was about to unfold

To wear me down relentlessly,

For it must have been that day

That black cat had passed me be yonder,

Subsequently, lightning then smacked me down regardless,

When passing under a stationary ladder,

And they say that bad luck comes in threes.

 

But even then I was totally unprepared

For on this day of reckoning;

That I would endure,

I was never ever ready,

For all that I would suffer,

In addition to the bloody hurt,

And by the surprise look on my dial,

When out off the blue it came,

That would you believe

I went out of my way to stub my BIG TOE!

On of all things

A neatly and completely camouflaged;

Rock filled Tupperware placcy ball,

That claimed another victim.

When I thought,

This THING with PAIN!

That digit on me foot!

At last had settled down,

But guess again amigo

And revaluate the situation proper!

 

At this juncture this Dick Head!

A thoughtless prudent son of Richard Cranium!

In the queue

Where I was standing patiently;

Waiting for an order of fries, O.J

And a double quarter pounder,

When this son of a MOTHER!

I swear it on a stack of Olde King James,

He took the liberty,

To pick on the one thing

In all the world to plunk down hard on,

You guessed correctly!

“This thing with Pain!”

Is my bleeding bloody SORE TOE!

And this intelligent illegitimate excuse,

Didn’t have the common sense;

Or the nous to simply say “SORRY!"

 

I will swear that some people,

Have only the intelligence of being

A banger short on a barbeque,

For they must have made a point

In ignoring the odds,

That whenever

I moved the THING with PAIN! 

This was always and somehow,

Taking painful blows and uppercuts,

And needless to say

The THING with PAIN!

Had become an easy prey,

In being a ready-made target,

Enforced by the rules of a Goose

At Sizzlers’ salad bar,

When dropping two bowls of pumpkin soup,

And a plate of the finest spag bol,

And you couldn’t guess,

Where this gastronomical feast ended up

On the downward plunge to Mother Earth?

My THING with PAIN!

As it took another beating!

 

However there is a moral to this ditty,

I know that while there is plenty

Of other sicknesses and diseases,

Death and moral depravities,

To go around

And pain that does not exacerbate,

With all the hurts,

And discomforts and numerous other sufferings too,

My friend;

There is this fact,

That I do know something about,

Sure as ducks,

Will lay duck eggs,

There is nothing in comparison to the PAIN!

Emitting from the THING BELOW! 

After big night out;

Line dancing down at Tamworth,

And the love of your life,

Has two blinking left feet,

And at the end of a big night out,

No time for HANKY-PANKY!

As the THING with PAIN!

Is strictly out of action!