We were ropin’ one Sunday, way out back of Steve’s;
Runnin’ calves for a while in the cool autumn breeze.
I had just slid my loop o’er a quick little sack,
I leapt from my gelding while he took up the slack.
But I never got up, I went down in mid stride
‘Cause my ‘ppendix had burst, broke open inside.
Ol’ Steve’s a quick study, not some kid playin’ pong.
He could tell in a minute that something was wrong
So he picked up his cell phone and called nine-eleven.
Next thing I saw was an angel from heaven.
She cooed, “Hey there cowboy”, with a voice soft and low.
If I weren’t in heaven, I was all set to go!
Nurse Angel went home after supper at six.
Her replacement was proof that life plays mean tricks.
Nurse Fidget, I called her, would prod and she’d fuss,
It was all I could do not to swear or to cuss.
The doors were all slammin’, the lights would come on,
Nurse Fidget would come in, then she’d be gone.
And just when I thought I might catch some rest,
There was Nurse Fidget, back for some tests.
“Your temperature’s fine, but your blood pressure’s high,
You had best get some rest or surely you’ll die!”
This went on for eons, eight hours or so
‘Til I pressed that white button, ‘cause I HAD TO GO!
The nurse brought a bed pan, then left for a spell.
By the time I was finished, that pan smelled like . . . .
Well, my room had no toilet, no sink, not a closet.
No place at all to conceal that deposit.
So I paged for the nurse to take it away,
But she never did answer, now what could I say?
The stench was just rotten, I mean something was dead.
So I fought through the pain and rolled out of bed.
It seemed like forever before I got there,
But there was Ms. Fidget, asleep in her chair.
“No need to wake her”, I thought, with a grin.
And what I did next, well I’m sure it was sin.
She hadn’t responded when I’d made my request,
So I emptied that pan on Ms. Fidget’s desk.
I was just drifting off when I heard that nurse scream.
But as far as I know, it was all a bad dream!
This poem was written after watching Grandpa Hunt struggle in hospitals for months. Circa 2003
Runnin’ calves for a while in the cool autumn breeze.
I had just slid my loop o’er a quick little sack,
I leapt from my gelding while he took up the slack.
But I never got up, I went down in mid stride
‘Cause my ‘ppendix had burst, broke open inside.
Ol’ Steve’s a quick study, not some kid playin’ pong.
He could tell in a minute that something was wrong
So he picked up his cell phone and called nine-eleven.
Next thing I saw was an angel from heaven.
She cooed, “Hey there cowboy”, with a voice soft and low.
If I weren’t in heaven, I was all set to go!
Nurse Angel went home after supper at six.
Her replacement was proof that life plays mean tricks.
Nurse Fidget, I called her, would prod and she’d fuss,
It was all I could do not to swear or to cuss.
The doors were all slammin’, the lights would come on,
Nurse Fidget would come in, then she’d be gone.
And just when I thought I might catch some rest,
There was Nurse Fidget, back for some tests.
“Your temperature’s fine, but your blood pressure’s high,
You had best get some rest or surely you’ll die!”
This went on for eons, eight hours or so
‘Til I pressed that white button, ‘cause I HAD TO GO!
The nurse brought a bed pan, then left for a spell.
By the time I was finished, that pan smelled like . . . .
Well, my room had no toilet, no sink, not a closet.
No place at all to conceal that deposit.
So I paged for the nurse to take it away,
But she never did answer, now what could I say?
The stench was just rotten, I mean something was dead.
So I fought through the pain and rolled out of bed.
It seemed like forever before I got there,
But there was Ms. Fidget, asleep in her chair.
“No need to wake her”, I thought, with a grin.
And what I did next, well I’m sure it was sin.
She hadn’t responded when I’d made my request,
So I emptied that pan on Ms. Fidget’s desk.
I was just drifting off when I heard that nurse scream.
But as far as I know, it was all a bad dream!
This poem was written after watching Grandpa Hunt struggle in hospitals for months. Circa 2003
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