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Poem

When we were young we’d go for weeks
And nary a doctor we’d see.
But now that our senior years have arrived
Seems that hardly a moment is free.

Appointments accumulate day after day -
It’s hard to keep them all straight.
The dates and the times all mix in my head –
Is tomorrow my eyes or my weight?

My calendar says my dentist I’ll see -
'Twas Friday I’m sure that he said –
But his office just called to tell me - oh no!
I should be there this morning instead.

The heart doctor wants me on Tuesday PM,
The same day I’m due for a scan.
The neurologist gave me a change in my date
To a day that I have other plans.

Although I’m aware that my age is advanced
I’m still walking and feeling just fine.
So why am I in this ridiculous state?
Maybe your guess is better than mine!

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