“You have a hernia,”
My doctor declared.
“You’re going to have problems,
If you don’t have it repaired.”
On Friday the thirteenth,
My surgery was set.
“Be at the hospital at six.”
It was written so I didn’t forget.
I made arrangements with a neighbor,
To get me there at six precise.
But that early in the morning,
She’d have to sacrifice.
True to her word she was on time,
Though the morning was icy and cold.
“You don’t have to pick me up later.
I have a ride home,” she was told.
Checking in was real easy.
My paperwork was already done.
Yet I was a little tense already.
The thirteenth had just begun.
I got my instructions and undressed.
And slipped on my hospital gown.
It was tied securely but still drafty.
There was no back to be found.
An early shift nurse placed my clothes.
In a bag and in my backpack.
In a locker they were stacked.
Afterwards while I recovered,
I wanted to know when I could leave.
If it was going to be soon,
I wanted my clothes to retrieve.
According to my nurse,
I was recovering very well.
I could leave if I continued progressing,
But only time could really tell.
If the pain had lessened,
And I could finally urinate,
The surgeon said it would be okay,
For the nurse to release me late.
After much discussion,
A nurse said my clothes were found.
It wouldn’t be long before I was gone,
And I’d be homeward bound.
My thoughts were on my friend,
Who had driven from work afar.
She must be cold and anxious,
And tired of waiting in her car.
I passed nurses looking for someone.
That was my humble conclusion.
“Which way did he go?” one nurse asked.
“Over here,” I heard in all the confusion.
I followed, trying to stay out of the way,
But I lost them when I stopped to pee.
The nurses were hunting for someone.
I didn’t realize they were searching for me.
Strange things were definitely going on.
I heard them calling for “Dan”.
“What a coincidence,” I thought.
“I’ll help them if I can.”
Through the halls I wandered.
I was hot on Dan’s trail.
But the nurses couldn’t catch him,
And I was also destined to fail.
However, it was Friday the 13th,
And a full moon rose to boot.
I forgot about the fugitive,
Because it was time to scoot.
Disheveled and carrying my backpack,
A large bloody spot on my shirt,
I saw no one around to question,
“Sir, are you badly hurt?”
My friend eyed me suspiciously,
When I climbed in and asked to go.
“Did you tell anyone you were leaving?
I think they would want to know.”
“Where’s your nurse and your wheelchair?
I’m sure a release you’ll need.
I think they’ll all be concerned,
If the checkout rules you didn’t heed.”
My friend called the nurse in charge,
Trying to make things right.
In a short while the nurse arrived.
She said, “It’s been a long, tiring night.”
My friend helped the nurse whisk me inside,
So I could be officially checked out.
They both seemed a little peeved,
With the full moon out and about.
I said, “It’s been fun.”
And I tried not to sound rude,
Even though Friday the 13th,
Put my nurses in a bad mood.
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