I Got THIS

Christmas was coming

There were no geese to get fat

And I didn’t have a penny

To waste on anyone’s hat.

But I was looking forward

To Christmas morning service

When lo and behold

I encounter THIS.

What is THIS?

I know you would ask

Getting rid of THIS

Is a mammoth task.

What are you talking about?

Another good question

THIS is a health challenge

My recent imposition.

Some strange things have happened

All across the world

THIS is one of them

By now you would have heard.

Trump was elected

It was not what I expected

Somehow THIS was detected

And now I am infected.

What are you talking about?

Cool it, have a little patience

THIS will be around for a bit

You will need some resilience.

Thursday before Christmas

I was shopping, not much

Felt this tickle in the throat

Just a little tickle as such.

Friday morning would you believe?

The tickle was a lump

When ever I swallowed

My saliva climbed a hump.

THIS could not be ignored

My attention was required

And by mid-morning

My throat was on fire.

It was like my Adam’s apple

Was turned outside in

Narrowing the passage

And hindering swallowing.

THIS was not nice

As you could well imagine

Just like in the Bible

I wondered, “Who did sin?”

Well a friend called me up

And asked how I was doing

“Not too well,” I said,

“Looks like the flu came in.”

He said, “Definitely for sure

For I had it too

And it real, real bad

That is so true.”

He said, “You think you’re over it

Then, Bam! Another hit

THIS becomes like a habit

Enough to break your spirit.”

THIS is a progression

Perhaps starting with the throat

Next it would move to the head

THIS is like “Murder She Wrote”.

Like as in my case

THIS attacked my throat first

Next THIS moved to my head

The rocks almost caused it to burst.

Every time I held down

 My head felt like it had in rocks

And by the time I came back up

I could feel the aftershocks.

THIS isn’t nice at all

You would wish it on nobody

Not on your cruelest foe

Or even your worst enemy.

THIS wasn’t finished yet

After the head came the nose

So blocked up and runny for so

I could not easily doze.

I tried to get to sleep

But merely tossed and turned

And the rag to dab my nose

Would make your stomach churn.

You get a little ease

And so you drift off to sleep

But you are kind of restless

Nothing really deep.

THIS moved from nose to eyes

Eyes red like I drunk

You say it was Christmas time

That idea in your head, debunk!

I’ve never been drunk in my life

Not at Christmas or any time

THIS is not an alcoholic drink

So please do not be unkind.

From throat to head

Then nose, then eyes

THIS was not through with me yet

It seemed to target my demise.

During the day

You could almost feel it gone

But when evening comes around

THIS becomes your storm.

Four mornings on a stretch

I woke up before six

I really wished to sleep

But THIS had me in a fix.

 

Eyes Stuck down with adhesive

And face in a terrible mess

I struggled to the washbasin

To rid me of THIS stress.

It took a fair bit of time

To remove the stubborn goo

If you want to stick an item

THIS can supply the glue.

THIS was not finished yet

It deposited in me some stuff

I tried to make some withdrawals

And that was very rough.

Four mornings consecutively

Either from up or down

Came some yellowish, greenish stuff

It’s all right for you to frown.

I know if THIS gets you

All the poise and frills will go

And the scorn you show me now

Will disappear when THIS shows.

THIS has not yet left me

I pray THIS would go away

But THIS is a stubborn old fellow

And for a while must have his say.

THIS had a say on Christmas morning

It’s on track for Old Year’s Night

But I want THIS to understand

I will not give in without a fight.

I am still experiencing the ills

In all the areas I’ve mentioned

Not as bad as they were at first

But I still have some apprehension.

There are some remaining points

That THIS could still affect

However any chance that it will happen

I absolutely reject.

By now you have an idea

What THIS could really be

You may not be a doctor

But the symptoms you can see.

THIS they say is a virus

A real bad virus of the flu

Concerning where it came from

I really wish I knew.

Here in our little island

Some have given it a name

I am reluctant to repeat it

So no name, no lock up, no shame.

Because of THIS progression

It trumps up as it proceeds

Attacking one point at a time

Before it finally recedes.

It is not uncommon to hear

When working with a friend

“I got this, don’t you worry

I’ll see it to the end.”

Next time you’d better ask

Particularly if he is alone

“What do you mean by this?”

THIS might very well be

Trump’s Harsh Influenza Syndrome.

My throat is still sore
On mornings it's worse
THIS is not playing 
It's like a curse.

This is my prayer for you
That you don't catch THIS
And that your prayer for me is
 I get to Old Year's Night service. 

Signed:

I got THIS
Tired Running Up My Pressure
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Stewart Russell © 2016