Lines, tubes, wires, chains. Dignity stripped, cavities drained. The metronome of your pulse above the beeping orchestra, dissonant buzz. Each gesture tracked, beat recorded, breathing measured, life distorted. Do you still feel free?
The body, its function a masterpiece to muse, altered by poison, fluid infused. Vesicles, vessels, organs affixed, shrouded in blood, lymph intermixed. Adhered in oneness by tendon and skin, scarcely quickened by a pump grown dim. Do you still feel strong?
Risen before the dawning sun, a swarm of stoic white has come to declare the status of your issues– Liver, kidney, heart, lung, tissue. To examine and prod, inspect then move a person, a soul, or a number to improve? I hope you still feel human.
To all others I have failed to name, forgive me, for I am truly to blame. As I am merely, sadly, only a doc– a doc who can’t rhyme but thinks she’s a pup. Pup. Cup. Rupp. Knupp.
Oh dear, now I’ve run amok.
What I meant to say, but failed to do, is…
Happy Holidays to all of you!
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Founded in 2013 by Phoebe Chi, MD, PhoebeMD: Medicine + Poetry is a health information and literary arts website that aims to inspire, empower, and inform through a curated mix of essential health information, uplifting stories, and original poetry.