A Trip to the Doctor’s

After another trip to the doctor’s I’ve got arms like pincushions from all the blood tests, I rattle from the amount of pills I have to take, and I’m still dying slowly.

All this preventative medicine they subject me to wouldn’t be so bad if it led to something, preferably youthful rejuvenation, but instead all it’s giving me is bruises on my arms making me look like an aging heroin addict who’s mainlining, and joy of joys, a warning that this latest pill I’ve been prescribed to boost my blood iron levels will make me feel sick and turn my stools black!

Isn’t it fun getting old and having a teenage-looking doctor with an evil sense of humour?  🙁