Diagnosis Poem

A's for Alopecia, and I'm leaving all my hairs
On my pillow, clothes and lounge room, and a couple on the stairs.

B's for Botulism, and I'd do some more analysis,
But I can't seem to hold my pen with muscular paralysis.

C's for constipation, and although I'm eating fibre,
I can't get things to move from my intestine to my Khyber.

D is for Dyslexia - I find it hard to write
Without mixing words my up, and hence not looking very bright.

E's for epilepsy, and no matter where I'm sitting
You never know when I'll begin a-foamin' and a-fittin'.

F's for Frotteurism, and I simply can't refrain
From rubbing up against you on a crowded peak-hour train.

G's for Gonorrhea – I gave in to sexual yearning,
Now I have a yellow discharge, and I can't pee without burning.

H is Halitosis, and I'm finding, through my day,
That the more I talk to friends, the more they seem to move away.

I's for Indigestion, and the cake I had at four,
Is sitting just beneath my ribs, repeating evermore.

J, of course, is Jock Itch – it's as if a thousand ants
Have bitten, simultaneously, the parts around my pants.

K's for Kidney Stones, and no – the medicine's not helping -
I find it hard to pass my latest lager without yelping.

L is Lyme Disease, and now I'm feeling pretty sick,
Because I played too long with pigeons, and got bitten by a tick.

M is for Mad Cow Disease, and now I really wish
Instead of the Beef Wellington, the waitress brought me fish.

N's for Narcolepsy, and it's really hard to keep….
AWAKE! Because the bastard always sends me off to sl…

O's Osteoporosis, and the chalky, crumbly way
That it creeps into my spine, disintegrating vertebrae.

P's Psoriasis, and you can tell where I've been lying
By the flaky bits of skin – it's almost like my scalp is crying.

Q's for Quadraplegia – I cannot move, of course;
My limbs are just as useful as a siren on a horse.

R's Rheumatoid Arthritis, and it's useful joints I'm lacking;
When I'm standing up or sitting, you can hear my bones all cracking.

S - Somnabulism – I can go and get a cup
Of coffee and a biscuit, without ever waking up.

T is for Tinnitus, and my ears are always ringing,
It's like a choir of tone-deaf angels in my head, all singing.

U is for an Ulcer, deep in my oesophagus,
Spewing forth its gastric juices just like Mount Vesuvius.

V's for Vaginismus, and I'm left with little doubt
That, despite attempts at foreplay, nothing's going in or out.

W's for Whooping Cough, I don't know what the fuss is;
I've completely come to terms with my developing pertussis.

X is just for X-Ray, disappointing, yes – but true.
It's all that I can think of, and it looks inside of you.

Y is Yeast Infection (not the stuff you mix with wheat),
And I'm itching, and I'm burning, and I'm squirming in my seat.

Z isn't for anything. What am I – a doctor?