On the eve of their dual surgeries, Tom Otten of suburban St. Louis tried to ease his nervous wife, Irene, by composing this poem about the impending donation of his left kidney:
'Twas the night before surgery and all through the body
Two kidneys were resting, no need to go potty.
The liver spoke up and to the kidneys did nag
"One of you is going for a trip, you better pack a bag."
The kidneys ignored him for they knew he was drunk
They never liked the liver, he was a smart--- punk.
Right kidney said to left, "I hope it is me
Because I feel sorry for anyone who just cannot pee."
Left kidney said back, "No I'll be the one."
Right kidney replied, "You have all the fun."
Realizing that they would see each other no more
The two kidneys decided to celebrate galore.
They stole the liver's whiskey and began to drink
But then the anus showed up and put up a stink.
"Be quiet up there, I must get my rest."
He said it with anger and not in jest.
So the kidneys obeyed and put an end to the clatter
And said to each other, it really did not matter
If one is to leave and one is to stay.
They knew they would both be OK.
They said their goodbyes and had a good hug
Until a hand reached in and gave one a tug.
"Goodbye and good luck," shouted the one on the right.
"Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight!"