It is not doctor-official that I have bronchitis, but my cough is definitely of that peculiar kind that is deep seated, purring, and has the woof of a dog when it bursts forth.
Joy to the world and all that.
But lest you think I have quite coughed out my sense of humor along with my lungs, I have written something of an Ode to The Cough.
"Ode to The Cough"
In ages long and long ago
There lived a wise old sage
Who thought of things and read of things
And lived to an old age.
But then one day while wand'ring bout
The sage met with a Germ,
It manifested in a Cough
And stayed with him all term.
And ever since we've coughed and cuffed,
HArumphed, and crummed and shree-ed,
We've spastic-ized and spasm-ed
And our lungs just cried and creed.
There's never been a nobler sort
Of Germ for making ills
And causing lots of pain and oomph
And medicines and pills
So Mighty Cough
I laud you, sir, for your persistent strength,
And I hope you run amuck for years
And live to wheezy length.
There. It was all I could muster in between my own Harumphs. Hope it made you smile! :) ~Rachel