UNCLE!!!

Uncle, Basta, Fins…
It all meant the same thing when we were kid’s rough housing.
It meant “Enough, stop, I can’t take it anymore”.

So hear me loud and hear me clear…
UNCLE!
Uncle, uncle, uncle, uncle, uncle!!!

TC and Dini have ports in their chest.
They have IV tubes putting medicine in their bodies,
And drainage tubes taking things out.

They are scanned, they are poked, they are prodded and they are X-rayed.
They are cut open and sewn shut.
They are chemically poisoned every week.
They wait for Doctors and they wait on line at the pharmacy.
They are on hold with the insurance company, just to be told they’re not eligible to have a test their Doctors say they absolutely need.
And all the while, they feel like crap.

Today, as an added bonus, TC got to have two teethe pulled.
TWO TEETHE PULLED!

UNCLE
BASTA
FINS
ENOUGH!!!