Sunday, December 21, 2008

For this Christmas season, I already prepared a "review" of some old holiday themes and presented them to my mates. But that in itself, inspired me to revisit the Christmas spirit of old fashioned tunes we know so well. Take the truly beautiful song of, "Silent Night"; I admire the writing, and the format that allows me to twist it for my own selfish needs................yes, a chronicle of a haunted, Christmas night!

And for your pleasure, I advise you to sing it with the suggested melody:

Silent Night
(Sung to the tune of "Silent Night")

Silent night
Lowly night,
All of my patients
Are drugged up right,
Round about midnight
I doze in my chair,
When airborne E. coli
Drifts into my hair,
Lo, I don't know it
But it's really Grossssssss...............
I'm a fomite on this Christmas night!

Silent night
Foley night,
There's a leak in that catheter
And the linen ain't white,
I looked under the covers
It was yellow and wet,
Curses on the day-nurse
Now he's in my debt,
I'll surely repay him
For a transgression like thissssss.............
I'm rankled on this Christmas night!

Silent night
Goalie night,
If you know about hockey
You'd recognize the sight,
We were body-slammed sideways
By the night Supervisor,
She thinks of Admissions
Like common divisors,
There weren't enough Nurses
To save enough lives...........
We were slammed on this fine Christmas night!

Silent night
Guacamole night,
We brought in some snacks
And did it up right,
Then Moses, from Pharmacy
Coughed on the dip,
We all got diarrhea
On this sinking ship,
It's a night we'll remember
Too long, I am sure.............
We were cleaned out on this Christmas night!

At last, some new poems. Sometimes I get topic ideas but just a few juicy lines. Then later, with the assistance of some fermented grapes, the details reveal themselves.

Marketing Fat

"Anti-Obesity Drug Pulled From European Markets"
That's what I read in the news today,
It seems to me, more success might be found
If our grocery markets, would hide the food away.

Rarely is it natural for a person to become obese
Thus, it's usually a condition of habit,
But in today's society of sweet and fatty foods
With the right advertising, we all want to grab it,
And with the onset of sedentary lifestyles
With computers, video games and TV,
The demand for a pill to melt away the fat
Is an attractive concept, believe you me.

These days, it seems to be starting
As young as infancy, soon after the bottle,
Parents, just stupid, at the grocery store
Don't understand, when to damper the throttle,
When it comes to Little-junior's demands
To consume calories each hour of the day,
At five years old, and 65 kilos
I can assure you, his health will soon pay.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

8th grade children
Larger than my wife,
Enough adipose tissue
To carve with a knife.

Not on the basketball
Or volleyball team,
Ten years from now
A gastric-bypass ream.

Those surgery specialists
Are raking in the bucks,
Screw the stock-market
This is a cash machine deluxe,
Because the obesity epidemic
Is just beginning to roll,
With outrageous statistics
Like the holiday bowl,
Because those hundred thousand couch potato's
Are future paying clients,
Thank God, America
For Bariatric science!


Lactulose Advice

Don't get too close
After giving your patient Lactulose,
Approach cautiously
And, I must mention
Beware of bowel distention,
If at all possible
Pad the bed,
Avoid their nether regions
Rather, pose by their head,
And if cleaning is necessary
It won't be the end,
But it's a heckuva lot easier
If you invite your best friend.


Monday, December 08, 2008

No medical conundrum has struck my fancy lately, and thus, no related poem. To fill space, here is my take on the leaves of my neighborhood.

Leaf vs. Lawn

While walking around
My neighborhood,
I get a feeling
For what's bad and what's good,
By looking at lawns
Garages and such,
I make assumptions
About those
Who seem to care too much;
Preening their lawns
Like a thoroughbred horse,
With a legion of gardeners
At a private golf-course,
Preparing for a tourney
Of high-stakes croquet,
While in reality
It's just my neighbor
Setting up Santa's sleigh.

He decorated the trees
The bushes and the flowers,
What's up with that, I wonder
With leisure time, for hours,
I wonder if he's working
Retired or laid-off,
Then I see a puff of smoke
And listen to him cough,
Thereby, furthering my suspicions
He has lung-disease and more,
I silently admonish him
And pity him, the chore.

With a little more attention
I compare the state of leaves,
Some lawns like mine, are full of them
And others beset by thieves,
Intent on dispatching all evidence
Via obsessive-compulsive removal,
As I relax before my blanket of leaves
I silently wave my approval.

Driving along my home avenue
I play my game, "Leaf vs. Lawn",
To the average reality-show junkie
It would barely register a yawn.