Medical Mystery Gang Unite!

I'm going on a journey,
and it's gonna freakin' suck!
Nurses don't know what to do, 
They say I'm outta luck --- 

And the doctors don't know either; 
So they scan me with machines,
And they pore over plastic papers,
And debate 'bout what it means,

And they take my blood for science
And they take my money too,
And all the while I'm sittin' there,
'cause they don't know what to do,

But all I know is it still hurts,
Up in my noggin --- or my ears ---
And the hum of bright blue medic lights
Doesn't exactly calm my fears,

And my leg still hurts in such a way:
Though the doctors can't describe it,
Maybe they know what meds'll fix me up,
But it costs too much: they won't prescribe it. 

This poem was written kind of out of the blue, if I’m being honest. Something about the fast-paced meter and casual language just started bouncing around in my head while I was getting out of the shower. I didn’t have to stop and rewrite a single verse. The whole thing just showed up as is. It’s obviously about my family members (Mom’s migraine, Henry’s hearing, Lucy’s leg) and the frustration that comes with the unknowable medical anomalies they’re facing coupled with the immovable wall of unhelpfulness that is health insurance. Love you all!