I don't think men of eighty odd
 Should let a surgeon operate;
Better to pray for peace with God,
 And reconcile oneself to Fate:
At four-score years we really should
 Be quite prepared to go for good.
 
That's what I told my husband but
 He had a hearty lust for life,
And so he let a surgeon cut
 Into his innards with a knife.
The sawbones swore: "The man's so fat
 His kidneys take some getting at."

And then (according to a nurse),
 They heard him petulantly say:
"Adipose tissue is curse:
 It's hard to pack them tripes away."
At last he did; sewed up the skin,
 But left, some say, a swab within.

I do not doubt it could be so,
 For Lester did not long survive.
But for mishap, I think with woe
 My hubby might still be alive.
And while they praise the surgeon's skill,
 My home I've sold--to pay his bill.