My best poem yet

So....
You woke up this morn with a hole in your head;
A bedpan was under your hips
A bouquet of IVs was stuck in each vein
As slobber poured forth from your lips

You haven't a clue how you got in this place,
Of your mind, you've long been bereft...
Your name, once familiar, escapes you just now
But take heart! We'll work with what's left

You say you were sipping some tea in L.A.
That's odd, cuz we found you up here
Wand'ring the tundra with nary a coat
But we'll sort it out, don't you fear

You say you remember a jazz band that irked you
And a purse of unusual skin
And an odd little key, made of brass, with a stamp
You found lying somewhere within

There there, little lady, you've had a rough day
Don't worry yourself so with that sighing
That blood-chilling feeling you've had all month long
Is just from the drugs we've been trying

So work with us child, we know what we're doing
We're physicians, of that be assured
If there's anything left in that gourd on your shoulders
We'll find it, and you will be cured

Or not.