The Trip

Whilst in the garden on Saturday night Possibly due to the lack of light Grandpa somehow managed a nasty trip That resulted in a broken hip

Hence it was without too much of a wait They got him ready to operate We understand that everything went well But we’re told he’s quite a tale to tell!

I’m really hoping that he will soon say Exactly what happened on that day But until then we’ve been having to guess Till to us he decides to confess…

So what is it they might have done to him? Did they somehow switch out the wrong limb? Or was the hospital so very poor They had to make do with a chain saw?

Could it have been all the doctors were sick And instead the cleaner they did pick? Or if for anaesthetic there’s no cash Maybe on his head they just went bash?

Had the ceiling there collapsed on him? Or was it that first prize he did win For guessing the weight of his new joint? But it seemed that we had missed the point…

Thus began his tale of hospital nights Disturbed by other patients and plights Though first of all came the very long wait In a white ‘ice cream van’ at the gate

Initially they could only afford To get him as far as the RAT ward Where two doctors argued and seemed quite vexed With what and how much stuff they’d use next

When he asked them if he could go inside He was told two doctors will decide And so it was that it was very late Before he offic’lly was an inmate

Then as he tried to get to sleep that night A manager came shining a light And then started him to interrogate Such that he wondered what was his fate

She asked his name, address and date of birth And who’s the president, which caused mirth Yes, they were doing all they could to keep Him from getting good, refreshing sleep

And thus his tales of what else had gone wrong Did seem to go on and on and on… Until it came to light - the painkiller Had turned his dreams into a thriller

I’m sure the medics intended the best But the things he saw made him distressed To taking those tablets he put an end And now he’s happily on the mend

October 2024 © Mary Deaves