You all know the Colonel called Firstborn*,
But you don't know him well as I do;
Since being my patient,
With his recurrent cancer,
About him all queries I'll answer.
He's an eighty-one year old "specimen",
Not pickled, but preserved well from Washington;
He came to Hawaii,
With a lump in his right thigh,
Concerned that it might be the end of him.
Testing was needed to determine extent,
Computerized axial tomography;
Magnetic (resonance) imaging,
Blood tests and bone scanning,
Done so that he might be content.
Still he pondered his fate,
What "would it hurt?" if he ate;
Vitamins and herbs,
Recomended by those,
Who were "knowing", having words without spate.
He asked that we spare the "contractaes",
(You know that he's a roller/ice skater);
Tests showed recurrence,
To be under the dermis,
And adherent to the 'neath lying fasciaes. |
An elliptical cut formed 'round the tumor,
To accomplish the planned "wide resection",
The margins were "clear",
The wound edges near,
All without taking but a bit of the "tensor".
A brace to control flexion needed,
Lest wound edges found receeded;
Amazed at the progress,
This "specimen" showed us,
His age the recovery not heeded.
Radiation therapy to the 'zona',
We knew Elt would get his diploma;
Just 'cause he's past eighty,
Does not mean his fate /(y/),
He beat the 'Histiocytoma'.
Now when I see him on Waikiki,
With his poses, pads, and his skate skis;
My lesson I've learned:
My fee not earned,
'Till I "know well" those whom I "ease".
(by the cutter)
Of all the fine surgeons at the 'Center',
There's none any better than my 'mentor';
I bet my sweet life,
He saved me with his knife,
So--here's cheers for my friend, the Mentor.
(by the cuttee)
*name changed for privacy |
