I started working again. In a hospital at that. In a busy ICU. Still on orientation (scraping the rust off, as my stellar preceptor says) and just a couple days into it, I have my first poem. It's an updated view on the thrills and chills of Kaexalate therapy. I don't know what stinks worse; the treatment, or my rhyming.

Kaexalate, Revisited

Kaexalate is rarely
Shared upon a date,
Kaexalate commonly
Will seal your fate.

Kaexalate, is best taken
Like a shot of nasty medicine,
Make reservations with a restroom
Your shit will soon jettison.

You can always tell your visitors
That your afternoon will be busy,
You can say you're writing a thesis
On the lyrics of Thin Lizzy,
They may look at you strangely
But probably won't query,
The very idea of that endeavor
To the novice, sounds scary.

Kaexalate is best taken
Shaken, or even stirred,
The smoother it goes down
The more slippery the turd,
It's better than Ex-lax
Or cod liver oil,
It eliminates work
And fertilizes soil.

The user will discover
The need for ventilation,
Because Kaexalate promotes
Rapid evacuation,
Of the immediate area
Of all personnel,
A Kaexalate dump
Carries a frightening smell.

And finally, heed my warning
It's best taken in the morning;
'Cause if you wait till lunch
Or afternoon,
You'll be on the toilet
With the rising moon.

Fibril_late;
2/20/08