The Waiting Room
We sit on chairs in the hall, one, two, three.
Two sisters, Pat and Trudy and me, one, two, three.
Mom, with her big purse sits across in dread.
the two girls needed their tonsils removed
I tease Pat and Trudy, both are quite scared.
Telling them, a friend had his tonsils out,
said it was bad, he was sore forever.
It is getting close to our time waiting.
The doctor calls out my name. Why call me?
They just want to make sure your all right.
But Mom, I'm not getting my tonsils out.
They are, their the ones with bad sore throats.
Not me, I'm O.K., nothing wrong with me.
That's all right dear, you let them check you out.
But, I don't have a sore throat, I'm O.K.!
Just go in the room and let them check you.
I was admitted in the hospital
that afternoon with rheumatic fever.
To the best of my knowledge, I had spent
twenty -one weeks trying to get better.
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