You don't meet a lot of people in emergency rooms 
who've got ANTHRACOSIS, CONSUMPTION 
or WOMB FEVER. June Cleaver never suffered. 
She had the penicillin, no expiration when she mothered 
her no-good little death-proof brats. 
Living little ones once were preciouser than that. 
Living anybody used to be a miracle, yo. 
You'd get et by the festering hysterical flow 
of madnesses and bad diseases of mole, 
lung, eye, and humor, spirit and soul. 
All these afflictions engender aversions: 
I catch GREEN SICKNESS to match with the virgins; 
SCROFULA coughs that I cast askance; 
ever since BLACK SCURVY, I can't wear pants. 
And I can't but dance with glee that it's not then now. 
“I bet you got the TARANTISM.” – and how! 

Maybe you'll never die, 
maybe you're going to live forever 
and never have anything wrong with you, 
and until you do, 
you won't worry about it. 
‘Cause you're probably fine; 
maybe you should pretend to forget to remember 
the bullet that's meant for you, 
until it's overdue, 
and it runs you through. 

I got GALLOPING DROPSY and CHEESE WASHER'S LUNG. 
Leaves me with ASTHENIA, THE CROUP, and a dung heap 
of unbearably fetid excreta, from which I get re-
infected. 
Nice to meetcha—how about a hug? I swear my ICHOR is 
down 
and I got over the PESTILENCE. It was intense. I 
astound 
the historians. I'm PICARDY SWEATY. 
Just ran out of leeches (that I need) (such as for 
bloodletting). 
It's upsetting! There, I'm upset! 
Dose of FRENCH DISTEMPER throbbing up in my head! 
I don't go into BILIOUS FLUX just yet, but about to 
give out a shout to the CHOLERA. Doubt you 
could follow a charting of the manifold ways I'm ill: 
ILIAC PASSION, SPELTER'S CHILL, 
WEAVER'S BOTTOM, and a MELANCHOLY ACHE. 
If my fever doesn't break, raise a glass at the wake. 

Yea verily, shouldn't ought to put in the belly 
AGUE CAKE with the COLLOID JELLY. 
Now you come telling me check in the mind, 
that all of these infirmities combined define a 
time-traveling hypochondria epidemic (one I suffer 
under). 
But on the other side of the globe from affluence, 
THE DEATH is still thriving. Thus, contract thence.