Doctor’s Appointment

Why does waiting fill me with such apprehension
Alert for that buzzer, body tight with tension
Trying to appear cool, calm and collected
Pretending I am really quite unaffected

I thumb through the magazines in the waiting room
Christmas adverts although it’s well into June
Santa’s jovial face beams out amidst snow
My anxieties he clearly does not know

Names are called on the buzzer’s pulse
Each time it seems to make my heart convulse
Only two more ahead of me in the queue
Surely soon they are bound to call me through

Bored by those journals out-of-date
I spy notices which describe my fate
If I don’t seek early treatment for my ills
Remedies much more radical than pills

Doctor now ready, just go on through
I chap the door, to face the interview
But I really should not have been so scared
As with my GP pleasantries are shared

What’s the problem she gently enquires?
A question of which she never tires
I say that I am just in for my regular check
Hoping I haven’t turned into a wreck

She takes my blood pressure with that fancy scope
That its not gone sky-high is my earnest hope
Then bodily fluids are drawn off in samples
Sent off to the labs in clear shiny ampules

I stand on the scales to check on my weight
I claim that my shoes will the figure inflate
Then she asks about my exercise and diet
Of my answers she expresses some disquiet

Well fortunately now the session is over
I am hoping the tests will no nasties uncover
‘Keep taking that tablets’ she loudly declares
In a tone that’s intended to show that she cares

Ken Fisher