It is reported that German Chancellor Angela Merkel has suffered a third bout of shaking while standing in public within a month. She continues to insist that everything is OK although she admits to not knowing what is not wrong with her.

“I see you’ve noticed that I shake,
When standing if too long they take
To play the music, make the speech,
And if my lectern’s out of reach.

Some people think I must be ill,
And therefore ought to take a pill,
But in response I have to say,
It wouldn’t do much anyway.

That’s ’cos I don’t know what it is,
That sends me thus into a tizz,
And so, unlike an earache,
I wouldn’t know which pill to take.

So I just plan to soldier on,
Two years till 2021,
But after that we’ll have to see –
The chancellor will not be me.

But until then do not concern
Yourselves if I should have a turn,
It might not even be the same,
But we can simply Brexit blame.”


Knee figure-1691868__340

It is reported that a surgeon in St Albans has fitted a left knee joint to a patient’s right knee. The hospital said it would check more carefully in future.

A knee can be a problem joint,
And when it’s old can disappoint,
Because it gets worn out, you know,
And hurts when you’ve somewhere to go.

The pain can be so very bad,
Perhaps the worst you’ve ever had,
It affects everything you do.
Including standing in a queue.

So if you have a dodgy knee,
Go to the doctor who will see,
If metal joints might be some help,
But not ones that you fit yourself.

For fitting joints you have to ask,
A surgeon equal to the task,
For he’s an expert at this job,
And not some useless cheapskate slob.

Imagine, then, your great dismay,
When, though you have still had to pay,
And though the joint can take your weight,
You don’t seem to be walking straight.

At first this does seem rather odd,
You check with what your feet are shod,
But it seems nothing’s out of place,
In your bit of the human race.

But then somebody checks the box –
A move not so unorthodox –
And to their horror they can see,
They might have fitted the wrong knee.

They can now see the patient’s plight:
The one removed was on the right,
But that put in with actions deft,
Was one intended for the left.

So with this error what to do?
It’s not much good to change a shoe,
And if to change the joint they try,
There is a chance that he might die.

So better not to say too much –
He doesn’t seem to need a crutch –
But maybe they ought to enquire,
If one day he might p’rhaps aspire,
To jogging, skating, dancing or,
The things he couldn’t do before.

And if it’s dancing that he craves,
It really would to be very brave,
To dance for Strictly judges who,
Might give a score of less than two!

“You need to lead more from the right,
Perhaps your trousers are too tight,
Or since your circles are quite neat,
It looks like you’ve got two left feet.”

So if your knee hurts do take care,
What joint the surgeon puts in there,
And do remember that he might,
Have one left over for the right!


pig heart-1301499_960_720

It is reported that German surgeons have transplanted pig hearts into baboons and it is thought they may also work in humans.

As medical procedures go,
A heart transplant as you will know,
Is common but there are too few,
Spare parts for folk like me and you.

For though the net can be cast wide,
Assessing people who have died,
There never are enough, it’s found,
Of these spare parts to go around.

Now German scientists have tried,
To use what is more often fried,
And they now claim to be the first,
To do a transplant with a wurst.

The organ might well be the same,
But doctors had to use their brain,
And early on they realised,
Something that came as no surprise:
The best results that they could glean,
Was without a mincing machine.

The pig, though, might not be too chuffed,
For ether way it’s being stuffed,
And though it has a part to play,
It doesn’t really have much say.

So if you are a pig beware,
Life isn’t always very fair,
But better to give up your heart,
Than go completely à la carte!


Toilet roll

It is reported that space age lavatories with sensors will be able to screen for early signs of disease and beam the results to your phone or your doctor.

It should be comforting to know,
That while you’re sitting on the po,
A lot of sensors might be placed,
To analyse your wee and waste.

Just how it’s done is not yet clear,
But, really, you’ve no need to fear,
For data, images as well,
Will be sent so your doc can tell,
If you’ve diseases which might be,
Picked up by analysing wee.

I really won’t say any more,
Have maybe said too much before,
But just to say this technique would,
Be mostly used for your own good.

So you can have a healthy life,
So, too, the children and the wife,
Because your health can now be tracked,
As long as it does not get hacked.

But if it does then do watch out,
You might be diagnosed with gout,
When, really, based upon your wee,
What you need’s a replacement knee!



It is reported that doctors in Croydon who have been prescribing dancing and bingo for their patients have seen a reduction in the number of visits made to hospital.

It would be rude for one to say,
On this or any other day,
That while the NHS is free,
It can be like a lottery.

The staff work hard, they do their best,
Most come out well in any test,
But if you ask they might well say,
They like patients to stay away.

So how to do this? One idea,
Which they have tried not far from here,
Is that they send patients away,
To where they can all bingo play.

These bingo players, studies show,
Found that they didn’t need to go,
To hospital or A and E,
So places there could be kept free.

The reason is, for this, not known,
But many of these folk are prone
To loneliness and things like that,
Which can be dealt with by a chat.

So Lucky seven, Kelly’s eye,
You’ll meet new people if you try,
And – who knows – you might get a date,
With Two fat ladies – eighty-eight.



It is reported that 999 emergency call handlers might be told to stop referring to people as Sir and Madam in case it upsets transgender callers.

“Emergency, which service please?
I’ll try to put you at your ease,
But tell me, Sir, now if you would,
Is patient breathing as he should?”

“Don’t call me Sir, it isn’t right,
I am not in a mood tonight,
But I’m transgender here on scene,
Whatever such a word might mean.

So when you speak – English or Welsh –
You really must say something else,
So that I will not get upset,
And No, he isn’t breathing yet.”

“I do not know what word to use,
And it seems you’ve got a short fuse,
But maybe now you could suggest,
A word that might just suit you best?”

“Well, I don’t know, but Sir’s no good,
My God, I don’t like all this blood,
So hurry up with what you say,
Or else he will have passed away!”

“It’s not so easy, I’m without,
A dictionary hereabout,
So choosing words might take some time,
And I must also speak in rhyme.”

“Forget the rhyme, it matters not,
This red stuff’s flowing now a lot;
Unless we both our skates get on,
I am afraid he will be gone.”

“Maybe it’s best to start again,
If patient’s not in any pain;
So Mr, Ms, LGBT,
Is patient breathing – can you see?”

“He isn’t now, with all this time,
Spent choosing words, composing rhyme,
The place is swimming now in red,
And I’m afraid the patient’s dead!”

There is a moral to this tale,
Which is, of course, beyond the pale:
Unless you are extremely dense,
Just speak and act with common sense.


Roast beef-69755_960_720

It is reported that a study has recommended taxing meat, especially processed meat, in order to discourage the eating of it and so improve the nation’s health.

Some people think it would be wise,
To campaign now for the demise,
Of eating meat and things like that,
No matter lean, no matter fat.

The premise is that meat is bad,
And for each portion that you’ve had,
Your lifetime will be rather less,
And you’ll clog up the NHS.

And that’s because of heart disease,
And things that maybe make you wheeze,
Or things that leave you feeling sick,
Ere you at last the bucket kick.

They plan to do this with a tax,
At rates between a min and max,
Discouraging meat-eaters who,
Will then eat fish instead of stew.

If you eat meat you’ll likely say,
The price that you now have to pay,
Is rather high so what’s the point,
Of more tax on the Sunday joint?

But zealots say, “Tax always works,
It’s like the opposite of perks;
And when folk see the price is high,
Then they’ll find something else to buy.”

So give up meat and be a sport,
It doesn’t matter much what sort,
But sausages, smoked meat and ham,
Will likely have less tax than Spam.

Stock up on it – it comes in cans –
Before the stuff is taxed or banned;
It lasts for years, of this I’m sure,
And, as you eat it, tins get fewer.

So buy a lot and have a feast,
It’s made from some dead type of beast,
But if you eat ad nauseam,
You might not quite survive the Spam!