DOCTORS IN WHITE: Lamentations of an impatient sick patient …

My body is now a sick domain;

a territory that belongs to human ailments.

Every task is daunting—

from speech to sleep to body movements.

The once flourishing frond parading proudly

On top of the palm tree,

I’m now a dry, shrunken aged leaf marked

for permanent disposal.

That’s what I’ve come to be and that’s how

I feel.

I’m told the hospital is a place where hope

is kept alive.

I’m right inside the hospital;

a major teaching medical center.

The doctors converge.

These are smart seasoned healers;

men and women of great wonders.

There’s a discourse,

a deliberation,

a range of opinion and strategies.

First the internist—

Let’s go to the conference table.

We need the archives,

the journals,

a history detailing the family tree.

Past medical history,

social information,

occupational, surgical and psychological issues

must be explored.

A series of tests and more deliberations

must precede any form of treatment.

No! says the Surgeon.

To delay is to destroy!

We must act fast and open the body.

Let’s explore the weeping pancreas,

the inflamed appendix.

The viscus could be trapped by the invading neoplasm.

Let’s palpate the tense gallbladder

and the elongated ureter

for stubborn calculi.

The scalpel,

unlike lengthy deliberations,

has no time for guesswork.

O dear! sighs the psychiatrist.

It’s all in the mind.

Let’s subdue the unconscious,

and free the stricken body from schizophrenia,

hypochondriasis,

paranoia,

and phobic psychosis.

Mental condition is a common source

of physical signs and symptoms.

Fix the brain,

and it will fix the rest of the body.

Meanwhile,

like a decaying piece of public monument waiting for

a final judgment,

I feel helpless as the rest of me continues

to decay.

I have become a graveyard for medical discourse.

“You are in good hands,” the kind Nurse reassures me.

“We are here for you all the way”.