January 14, 2009
There was a young man whose name was not Dan
His job was to prepare my bod for a scan.
To the room we went and for the needle he sent,
But the scans for today were simply not meant.
Into my vein the needle did slide,
And into my arm the pain did not hide.
Oops! The floor and my face did nearly collide.
I awoke confused – very much in a daze,
Not knowing where I was because of the haze.
My husband’s sweet voice and frightened tender face,
Helped bring to memory the quite familiar place.
Next came the nausea and sweating chills,
To the bathroom I ran without any thrills.
The doctor and tech were very alarmed,
But was it for me or the tech who was harmed?
With the bloody needle my tech did get poked,
Much concern and fear this fact did evoke.
Reed brought me home and I went to bed,
To the clinic for testing my young tech he did head.
This should end the tale of Angela’s scans…
Can I please ban? For I am no longer a fan.
But sadly for me this simply won’t be,
For on Friday again the tech I shall see.
Let’s hope this time is better and I won’t pass out,
For if I do, I will scream and I will shout.
On Friday the 16th I ask you to pray,
At 11:00 a.m. I hope for no delay.
I’m done with this poem I can no longer rhyme,
I’m hopeful results will be different next time.
For barfing and fainting truly aren’t me,
I’m more prone to sarcasm and lots of green tea!!!
Angela Robinson ©2009