Is It Urgent?

I awake unwell with swollen glands
With fevered brow and sweaty hands
I shake and shiver and cough and sneeze
I sweat and flush and choke and wheeze
I mutter and mumble and grunt and groan
As I struggle downstairs to find the phone
I first call work to let them know
To the office today I will not show
And then the doctor’s line I dial
A stern voice answers in a while
“What name”? Is the curt response?
An appointment please I say at once
Well is it urgent? She retorts
Well I’m not dying just out of sorts
You can see a doctor in three weeks time
I hope to be better by then I chime
Shall I book you an appointment then?
No if I’m not better I’ll call again.
But I'll say to you without offence
If I’m still ill in three weeks hence
I’ll eat my hat till I eat my fill
For I will never ever have been so ill

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