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McGee was feeling poorly
Rather dizzy, kind of weak
He started thinking, that perhaps
It's a Doctor he should seek

His wife agreed, and drove him
To the nearest Doc in town
As they made it through the door
She helped him to sit down

It wasn't long before 
The Doctor called, and asked Him in
And it didn't take a minute
For the testing to begin

Then after all the pictures
The prodding and the poking
The Doctor's smile disappear
As he set aside all joking

I have to speak with you alone
He said to Ann McGee
Soon your Husband's gonna die
But it doesn't have to be

He has a stress disorder 
That will surely kill him dead
Unless of course you're willing
To change some things instead

"What can I do" Ann inquired
Her hands upon her head
"I'll tell all the things to do'
The Doc abruptly said

You mustn't wake Him early
For he needs more time to rest
And forget about a list of chores
He'll have to work must less

You mustn't stress him out
With problems that might weigh 
And cook him three good meals
Consistently each day

And mostly whats's important
As He handed her a bag
Have him take one each day
And for Gods Sake, never nag

The Doc then turned and said
If you do these thing, It'll clear
And he should show improvement
In six or seven years

Ann thanked the Doctor kindly
Then returning to McGee
Said "I'll take you home now, darling
And make your favorite tea"

It was silent in the car
Until they drove about half way
McGee then asked impatiently    
"What did the Doc say"


Anne stopped the car abruptly 
As tear fell from her eye
"Oh, McGee, My Dearest Love
He said your gonna Die"

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