A final diagnosis
Thought I'd let my doctor check me,
'Cause I didn't feel quite right. . .
All those aches and pains annoyed me
And I couldn't sleep at night.

He could find no real disorder
But he wouldn't let it rest.
What with Medicare and Blue Cross,
We would do a couple tests.

To the hospital he sent me
Though I didn't feel that bad.
He arranged for them to give me
Every test that could be had.

I was fluoroscoped and cystoscoped,
My aging frame displayed.
Stripped, on an ice cold table,
While my gizzards were x-rayed.

I was checked for worms and parasites,
For fungus and the crud,
While they pierced me with long needles
Taking samples of my blood.

Doctors came to check me over,
Probed and pushed and poked around,
And to make sure I was living
They then wired me for sound.

They have finally concluded,
Their results have filled a page.
What I have will someday kill me;
My affliction is old age.

3 Docs at heavans gate!
Three doctors arrived in heaven. St. Peter asked the first one why he should be let into heaven.

The doctor said "Because I won the Nobel Peace Prize for my work."

The second doctor was a little worried when his turn came.
He said, "I haven't won any prizes, but I've started free clinics and helped those in need for free." St. Peter let him in.

The third doctor said, "I'm responsible for all the HMO's across the United States."

St. Peter thought about it for a minute and said, "OK...
I'll let you in, but only for three days!"