This is the last one. I don't have any more patience nor things to write. What am I?

I’m born of a sigh and a long, weary stare, When patience packs up and leaves you there. I’m not quite angry, just thoroughly done Eyebrows raised, but no need to run.

I used to go under your armpit, under your tongue or where the sun doesn't shine. Nowadays I go into your ear. A much more comfortable design.

In a swamp where the creatures do creep, A gooey green blanket they keep. It sticks to your shoe, And smells a bit too, A slippery slop do you seek.

If something is free, it's on the blank If you're holding three aces and two jacks it's a full one When companies fire people, they're cleaning blank Just name Hugh Laurie's US TV show for some medical fun