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I got this bloody rotten cold that had me coughing all night long.
I got no sleep and so the language, I heard was fairly strong.
My wife was kept awake as well, and she hasn’t got a cold,
so her tongue matched her frustration, and advice soon did unfold.

I had no say in what was coming; just a time and told to dress.
The Doctor now awaits me visit to address me wife’s distress,
then he stuck that bloody cold thing amongst me hairy chest,
and diagnosed the common cold, the same as what I guessed.

The Doctor said “These viruses that bring on the common cold,
sometimes are pretty hard to beat once they have took a hold,
but I’ll write a script for tablets that should have your chest unclog.”
After three days on this cure I’m still barking like a dog.

So I’m back there in his surgery and still having coughing fits.
I yelled at the ‘Doc’ between each cough “it’s giving me the ‘irits’!”
But it didn’t seem to faze him much; the ‘Doc’ stayed cool and calm.
Not like me; I all tensed up, when he jabbed me in the arm.

And with usual recommending I was sent off home with hope,
“Make sure you rest; drink water, and I’m sure you’ll cope.”
But two more days of coughing fits had me a mental wreck.
This time I said “You cure it or I’ll ring your bloody neck!”

I must have scared the Doctor ‘cause he took a different tact,
for his shaky voice then uttered, “Well I better make an impact.
You go home and have a hot bath,” but then I never laughed,
when he added, “Then open up a window and stand there in the draft.”

I admit I’m not a Doctor and I don’t think I’m a fool.
I questioned the Doctor’s logic about standing in the cool.
“But Doc” I said, “I’ll get pneumonia, and won’t that knock me flat?”
The Doctor grinned “My bloody oath it will - but I can cure that.”
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