I Do Not Like Hospital Visits

"Damn, do I really have to go? Do I?" That's my thought bubble, every time. I don't know what it is about hospital visits; Like many, if not all, I hate it like I do cockroaches. There's something dreadfully morbid About making these trips, even when I'm just picking up a prescription. I bet a hypochondriac feels differently On my way, my mind gets flooded with Disturbing imagery of folks bleeding and dying; Injection needle going into a vein in my arm. "Ouch!," you say. I know, right? I recoil At the phrase, "blood work." Call me chicken, But I'd rather recuperate at home, thank you! Going to the emergency room almost feels like I'm headed to the gallows, nope, no kidding! I sit morosely in the waiting area For what seems like an eternity Wondering why I came in the first place; My inner child growing increasingly jumpy! Is it just me or does it always feel Too long at the doctor's office? He could be simply talking to me About the weather and my anxious, Impatient brain would be In panic mode... "Are you softening me up for something, Doc? What ails me? I'll be okay, right? Right!? Stop beating around the bush!"