House Call

I don’t feel well. I’ve been pretty sick recently.
Doctors did some tests. Then they did more tests.
“You have cancer,” they finally said. “Real bad.”
No treatment will do any good.
So, I went home, took the phone off the hook, and got drunk.
Stayed drunk for three weeks.
I get a knock on the door. It’s a doctor. Says he’s been trying to call me.
He has a drug now. Nanobots. Kills the cancer.
“So, I’ll live?” I ask. He gives me the injection.
“No,” he says. “This’ll kill you too. We just need your organs for transplant.”