ROOM 218 ON THE SECOND FLOOR

I entered the hospital last Hallowe'en, 
The sickest guy you've ever seen. 
The doctor examined me, but wouldn't say, 
Until after he 'd taken an X-ray. 
Then he said, "You're on the spot, 
You're intestines are in a knot. 
But there's a chance we can pull you through, 
Providing we operate on you." 
So next morning at half past eight, 
I went upstairs to learn my fate. 
I felt as though I'd met my doom, 
When they wheeled me to the carving room. 
It was there I heard the doctor shout, 
"Whenever you're ready, knock him out. 
Now all you nurses just watch me, 
I'll rip this 'gent from A to Z. 
I'll look inside and see what's wrong, 
And I'll sew him up with a cat gut thong." 
Then he took out the twists, straightened the bends, 
Cut off the kinks and spliced the ends.
"Now," said he, "When I get through, 
He'll only be short a yard or two. 
Then watch and see this big galoot, 
Will be laced up tight like a hunting boot. 
I'll tie him tight, so he won't come loose, 
And a good hard sneeze won't cook his goose." 
Then with a drill, some holes he bored, 
And sutured across with a strong fish cord. 
Said he "You're sick', but I've seen worse," 
As he checked me out to the red-headed nurse.
"And now old boy, my job is through, 
She'll give you a quart of blood or two, 
The getting well is up to you." 
Then soon I was back where I was before, 
In Two eighteen on the second floor. 
lying there in a snow white bed, 
Wishing me and that Doc both were dead. 
Then the Sisters came to that gruesome scene,
And stopped the hurt with a shot of morphine.
They dried up the sniffles with stropine,
They rubbed me down with Alcohol.
Then they put me to sleep with barbital,
That was about all I knew,
I seemed to sleep the whole night through.
Next morning the nurses came with a cart,
They changed the dressing right on the start.
They checked my temperature, lungs and heart,
And wrote what they found on the doctor's chart.
Before they left, I heard one say,
"Did he have a B. M. yet to-day?"
They made up the bed and pulled out the slack,
Fluffed up the pillow and rubbed my back.
A nurse came by and gave me a letter,
I wasn't well, but I was better.
The doctor stopped by and we had a talk,
He said for me to get up and walk.
As laying there so calm and meek
Would make my bones and muscles weak.
"That I won't do" was my reply,
"To move one inch...I'd rather die."
Said he "No matter what you like
Just call the nurse and take a hike.
It's true you'll find it hard to go,
But while you're here, I'll run the show."
I stayed five weeks and healed up tight,
Tho things they made me do were right.
So we should always try to do,
The things our doctors tell us to,
I'm going home...still stiff and sore,
leaving two eighteen on the second floor.
To the Sisters and nurses I said good-bye,
They had all been good as apple pie,
And even the doctor is a wonderful guy.

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