Billy had a nasty boil, as big as a boiled egg
Neither on his torso then, neither on his leg
The doctor said,’ I’ll lance it’. Billy wasn’t sure.
‘Can I have a poultice until you find a cure?’
He asked in trepidation; frightened of the knife.
‘Don’t be silly, Billy,’ said his ever caring wife.
‘You cannot sit you cannot bend, hardly even walk.
And your skin’s a funny colour, bit like blackboard chalk’.
‘She’s right,’ said the doctor. You do look very pale
I’ve done this so often; I’m never known to fail’!
‘Not to me’. Said Billy, ‘there’s always a first time
Slip and you could cut me off whilst I’m in my prime’!
‘That’s if he could find it’, said his wife, into her hand.
Then louder, ‘now Billy get your head out of the sand’!
‘That’s good advice’, said doctor. ‘Listen to your wife,
If poison gets into your blood it could end your life’!
‘Suppose I let you do it, will you be scarring me’?
‘Don’t be so vain Billy; you’re fat and fifty three’!
Said his wife; angered by his narcissistic trait.
‘Get it over with; I’ve enough upon my plate’!
‘OK Doc, be gentle; give me gas and air’.
His wife said. ‘It’s a boil, not a baby you’ve got there’!
The needle to anaesthetise then came into view
Billy had a sudden urge to scarper to the loo.
The doctor, he was very quick, he plunged the needle in
Into the epicentre of the angry reddened skin.
Billy screamed, something moved, the smell was pretty foul
The doctor calmly asked his nurse for a nice clean towel.
‘Is that it’? Asked Billy, embarrassed about his bum.
‘No’. Replied the doctor; ‘I’m just making it go numb’.
The doctor then retired to put on a surgical gown
On his return he asked the nurse to hold poor Billy down.
With iodine and swab he had Billy’s torso painted
But as the swab touched his skin, poor Billy fainted!
Now, never one to look a gift-horse in the mouth
The doctor took his scalpel and proceeded to go south.
One deft cut and the poison shot up into the air
Narrowly missing the nurse, who jumped up on a chair.
The doctor swabbed and cleaned the once putrid hole
Then threw the stinking waste into a waiting bowl
The nurse, she took over and sterilised the site
Before applying a dressing to ease Billy’s plight.
Billy awoke as the nurse applied the sticking plaster.
‘Where am I, is it done’? Poor Billy asked her.
‘Oh good, you are awake, you look a bit confused.
You fainted on the table before the needle could be used’.
‘So have I got to go again to get my boil drained’?
Said Billy, sotto voce, which fright had now constrained.
‘No it’s done, the boil is gone; the doctor is quite good
He cut it, got the poison out and there was hardly any blood.
You though had an accident and Sister wasn’t happy
You soiled her clean linen and had to have a nappy’.
‘Sorry, I remember that, it was the sight of that syringe
Since I was a little lad they have always made me cringe’.
Nurse wasn’t listening she was checking pulse and heart
The results of which she entered on to his bedside chart.
‘I’ll go and fetch the doctor to see if he’ll let you home’.
‘Please ask my wife if you see her, for a mirror and a comb’?
Said Billy as she departed but before she closed the door.
He then thought how nice it was not to feel so sore.
©Phil Bottomley May 12 2015