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Lung cancer

If you suffer from excess mitosis,
Dyspnoea, clubbed fingers and ptosis,
Take whisky all day,
in the usual way,
And who knows? You might die of cirrhosis.

Honeymoon cystitis

Her urgent and hot micturition
Her doctor put down to coition;
To lessen the trauma
He said keep it warmer,
And ordered a change of position.

Torn meniscus

My friend, Lucy has torn a meniscus,
Through throwing the hammer and discus;
She also takes drugs,
And it hurts when she hugs;
She’s a muscular lady, with whiskers.

Involutional melancholia

Involutional-type melancholia
Often turns old ladies holier,
Dreaming of nights
Of forbidden delights,
‘Neath their parents’ old oak or magnolia.

Surgery

By surgeon, what’s commonly meant
Is a dextrous, meticulous gent,
Who applies to one’s skin
Objects pointed and thin,
With presumed therapeutic intent.

Intrauterine devices

An imprudent young girl used a key
As a do-it-yourself IUD,
And with this poor immunity,
Screwed with impunity…
George, her small son, is now three.

Behcet’s Syndrome

There’s a disease going round Istanbul,
Which I mean to describe here in full;
It affects, just between us,
The eyes, mouth and penis
Of Ahmed, Hassim and Abdul.

They have terrible ulcers and sores,
Which were caught, they had thought from the whores,
But it’s since been decided,
Their doctor confided,
That Behcet’s disease is the cause.

They all have a leucocytosis,
And Ahmed’s developed a ptosis;
Hassim spends all day
Eating charcoal and clay,
And Abdul has a sort of psychosis.

There’s trouble as well with their eyes,
For their retinal vessels leak dyes;
They have large joint arthritis
And thrombophlebitis;
Their gangrenous feet attract flies.

Author: admin