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The waiting room was empty.

An eery silence filled the air.

Then the receptionist said quite abruptly,

“There’s no reason to despair.

You’re the last patient of the day.

No reason to throw in the towel.

You’re very fortunate to see him.

Doctor Death will see you now.”

I began to sweat profusely.

Who the hell was Doctor Death?

Why was the waiting room empty?

Why was I the last one left?

Did Doctor Death kill all his patients?

I wondered about this in fear.

Would I be able to live

Beyond the first of this year?

Doctor Death came out to see me.

He extended his wrinkled hand.

And then he spoke to me and said,

“I hope you understand.

You have nothing to worry about.

I’ll take good care of you.

By the time I’m finished with your diagnosis,

You’ll be too frightened to sue.

I expect you’ll leave this office

Cringing in fright.

But I promise when you leave here,

You’ll survive for at least one night.”

I stared at Doctor Death.

He smiled with an evil grin.

I wondered to myself,

Should I contact my next of kin?

As I write my final entry,

I hope all is not lost.

At least I’ll save on my medical bill,

But at a truly alarming cost.