In last week’s blog, I shared that Charlie was finally going to see the podiatrist, and I wondered if he’d write a poem about it. He took the hint and did. You’re welcome.
My Visit With Dr. Bunion
Our foot doctor, I always thought was a quack
But now I am ready to cut him some slack
For ten years my toenails have given me grief
I need some answers, I need relief!
Maybe you, too, would act kind of surly
If day in, day out, you saw toes lookin’ squirrel-y
Hideous toenails, ingrown, misshapen
Fungal infections like mine, god forsaken
Discolored toenails, yellow and blue
That cause such pain you don’t know what to do
‘Cept see Dr. Bunion, a man without cheer
Who looks as if he hasn’t smiled in a year
But first, all this paperwork, pages of stuff!
My entire life history wasn’t enough
They still had more questions they needed to ask
Took a half hour to get through the task
With surgical gloves, Bunion looks at my toes
And tells me, “We’ve only two options for those:
I cut the nails off,” (Did I see him smile?)
“But then, of course, you’d be laid up for awhile
“Or there’s this ointment, give it a go
It works for some people, for you, I don’t know
But judging the way your toes look to me,
It may take a year, try it and see”
Regarding the price, he says not a peep
Come to learn later, the stuff isn’t cheap
Sixty five dollars, that’s what they charge
For one little tube, (imagine in large!)
Oh, what a racket, Bunion’s got going!
Pedaling “cures” without really knowing
What to expect, that wasn’t clear
How ’bout if I let you know in a year?
That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!
Hear Ida Tell It: Charlie Goes to the Podiatrist