A case of dueling poets
This is a poem I wrote to a very colorful patient that bore an uncanny resemblance to Willie Nelson.
Ode to Whiskey Bill
The biker walked into the Doc’s place
with pain written all over his face
“Doc, the angle of my dangle just ain’t right.
Bad enough last night,
to give my ol’ girl a fright.”
The Doc said, “drop yer britches,
turn yer head and cough.”
With a serious shake of his head,
the Doc looked up and said,
“Whiskey Bill, me lad,
it’s a hernia we have here, it’s bad.”
“Doc, I’ve come a long way and I put my trust in you.
I don’t want to lose my manhood. Is there something you can do?”
“Sure”, said the Doc as he prepared the block,
sharpening his blade as he made his decision.
With a deft incision and crafty precision,
he patched the rupture back in position.
When the Biker woke later, with a sob
he reached down to calm his fear.
The Doc had done a good job
and Whiskey Bill was not a steer.
He gleefully hopped back on his Milwaukee Vibrator,
and burning rubber, shouted “Y’all take care, see y’all later”.
Now this was the poem he returned to me on his first post op visit...
Put It Back!
Before I came to know you
My life was filled with pain.
I could not do my job,
I dared not try to strain.
But since you’ve fixed my problem
my life has gone to hell.
I cannot use any excuse
they know that I am well.
I thought they would have compassion
and have some sympathy.
But they said I had a good doctor,
you’re as strong as you can be.
So I ask you now,
as my eyes fill with tears.
“Give me back my hernia
I will live with it for years”
"Whiskey" Bill 2017
How is that for gratitude?
And, yes, he gladly paid my fee in full