Ode to "Thy Roid"

There's a new cancer on my mind (besides the one that's literally on my mind): my dad's thyroid cancer. Tomorrow my dad goes in for his thyroidectomy (yep - spelled it with half my brain tied behind my back), and so we are having a farewell party for his thyroid tonight. I'm in charge of bringing the cake and the Operation game.

In preparation for the festivities I also wrote an "Ode to Thy Roid", which I bounced off my mom (my unofficial editor) and she insisted that it belonged on my blog. It reads best if you use your best Shakespearian English accent:

ODE TO THY ROID
Thy roid --
That bow-tie shaped gland of thine --
The larger gland of the endocrine;
Is annoyed, thy roid –
Makes you hoarse when you whine.

It must go –
Should not loiter
And turn into a goiter.
(Or worse.) Take it out, for it’s ill –
It’s replaced with a pill.

It’s a pain in the neck,
But oh, what the heck –
With the slash of a knife, thy roid--
Thy bow-tied foe—
Must now go.

We weep not for thy roid,
With its lobes and its isthmus
And its cancerous growth –
Be it gone!
(Before Christmas!)

Thy roid – below thy pharynx,
And surrounding thy larynx --
We bid a hasty farewell to thy roid,
Who in its treachery
Has now become void!

(Ah, well, at least it's better than: "Glioblastoma, pack up and go home-a, before I go into a coma...")