I'm over the hill and going down

With enough complaints to make me frown.

I've tried physio, massage and acupuncture

However did I arrive at this juncture?

 

The moment of truth at last arrived

No matter how hard I had contrived

To postpone a hard decision,

To submit myself to a sharp incision.

 

A couple of scans and one face down,

Would the word spread over town?

All modesty gone, my rear in sight

Of the docotr's probe, did he get a fright?

 

I consoled myself, he had seen worse,

At least I didn't hear him curse.

 

The deed was done, I tried to stand,

Thank heaven there was a helping hand.

If there hadn't been, I'd have met the floor,

Very soon I was wheeled out the door - such mortification,

That's what you get for prevarication.

 

The drama wasn't quite over yet,

"How many folk do you have to get

To help you into a car and out, into the house?"

You'd like to shout.

 

With legs like jelly you have to be

Dependent on others' charity,

But, let's face it, you're a survivor,

Once more, quite soon, you'll be a driver.

 

A wheel chair, then a walking stick

These are the aids that help you tick.

If after this you still have pain

One thing's certain, never again

Will you submit to that dreaded needle,

Though you may cry, and plead and wheedle.