Medicinal Compound

As yesterday's bit of non-sense seems to have caused a chuckle in more places than one, I feel obligated to continue in mirthful mood for a little longer. Many of you were taken with the idea of an ailing doctor. The concept is a trifle unnerving, to say the least. Therefore this morning I've been trying to see possibility in telling one such doctor's story. No offence intended to any of the medical profession who should happen upon the result.

A Bitter Pill

Doctor B rose one morning
as daylight was dawning
and picked up his doctoring bag.
His front door was a jar* n.b this is not a typo -I mean A Jar- as per Jam Pot!
so he climbed in his car
and drove off while waving a flag.

His receptionist stared
she was quite unprepared
for the horrible vision she saw.
She knew in a trice
that he needed advice
as soon as he lurched through the door.

'Your nose drips are glowing
your pimples are growing
how dare you pretend to be well!
Dandruff is flaking
I see your knees shaking
Go home! You are ill, I can tell'.

Doc looked all forlorn
his face flushed and warm,
his backache was giving him grief.
He hurried back home,
gave a shuddering groan
and swallowed two pills for relief.

At this point I either ran out of steam, or my quill pen blotted my copy book beyond recognition, for I couldn't for the life of me find a suitable way to wrap up the sorry tale in fitting jinksy style. At present, it is a little lame, and in need of a word doctor of its own. Please, I need your help and advice on how to finish with a bang - maybe not literally - but a little eclat with a final verse would be good. I await your inspirational ideas, preferably sooner than later...