'Twas a Tuesday 'fore Christmas, when all through the house,
The wife was moaning, groaning, "Oh, why do I feel louse?"
"In all the merriment, preparing for the season";
"Perhaps you're merely exhausted," I reasoned.
I led her to the room, and tucked her to bed,
And made sure she would get some rest instead;
"In the morning," I said, "You'll be feeling much better"
But as it turns out this was beyond mind over matter.
Came the night before Christmas, we propped Mommy at the table,
And served her a cooking of which we were able,
A dinner of Turkey and sausage and some baked potatoes,
And for colour, we even threw in some tomatoes.
The turkey was dry, and the dinner was quite crappy,
But there was still Christmas morn to make us feel happy;
But unfortunately, even that wasn't to be,
For the next morning her fever shot up a degree.
So we bundled Mommy off to the infirmary,
(But not before we opened some gifts for Jesse);
To the clinic she went and the doctor did gaze,
Upon the sickness that was written all over her face;
"I'm afraid, dear young lady, there will be no respite,"
Doc said, "when an Aedes Mosquito has taken a bite";
So she drew out some blood to quickly confirm it,
And it turned out to be Dengue! Confound it!
We sat there dumbfounded, but the doctor was quick,
To know that it was of our baby, we were worried sick;
"The baby is fine," said the Doc, "Just take care of your wife"
"Feed her 100 Plus and for God's sake, keep her alive!"
So we went home to rest, and I got round to thinking,
Of the doctor's statement, there can be no mistaking;
When I tell you my theory, in me you must trust,
That doctors must be getting commission from 100 Plus.
Yeah, we spent most of our Christmas holidays going in and out of the hospital but it's all good. Both Mae and Baby are fine. Thanks to crates of 100 Plus, coconut water and papaya leaves. And tender loving care, of course.