a small pen & ink drawing appeared in the corner of the end of your letter today
a tiny man pushing a gigantic mass uphill
in it i saw what this has reduced you to and what supreme efforting it is taking
for you to get on your feet and try to begin the journey uphill back to how your life used to be a former life, filled days of art of painting
of music-making and dialogue with friends of public radio blaring of long, brisk walks taken, breathing the ocean’s air
of books and articles to peruse and discuss of postcards and letters written phone calls to make and emails to write of laughter and tenderness of holding your lovely wife at nightfall
a life to return to as it used to be this long road back this uphill journey toward trying to feel normal once again
enduring 18 months of medical hell has jarred you enough, dear friend
on this rocky road, a barrage of cold, too-busy clinicians
have surprised, saddened and overwhelmed you
you, of tender heart and sensitive spirit
you, with a lucky lifetime of good health and no need for medical attention
you, who did not inherently know the new, unspoken rules of this millenium’s medical game
you, who have now encountered the tricksters in this, the new business of corporate medical care
that is now run by pharmaceutical companies and insurance providers
who have slashed the ideals of the hippocratic oath to smithereens
leaving only ribbons of dollar signs blowing in our winds…
they have turned wide-eyed, hope-filled medical students—- who may have initially wanted to somehow help as healers—–
into deadened wooden puppets controlled by strings of high rates high rents and
high incidence of blatant insensitivity…
your dream was that they would understand and truly care for you
that they could read into your eyes and see your absolute need for compassion
and a moment of their time
that they would know to assuage your fears and concerns how to deal with you in our shared diagnosis as a highly sensitive person…
your hope was that these trendy, pseudo-hip LA docs with familiar art on their waiting room walls
might show a moment of humanity listen closely to your words and engage in your attempts at simple conversation
instead they gave you little in your allotted 4.5 minutes of time
yet, they have carved into nostril and neck, ravaging your skin
violated your vision
poisoned you with their drugs and mistakes
prodded into belly and bowel
insulted your manhood with stents and bags
drilled into and explored you stripped you naked and left your spirit almost deadened by the wayside
prodded and poked bloody and exposed….
weakened by their hands, they’ve
exhausted you at every turn, as they forced and spun you through LA traffic,
frantically thrusting you into cold, unfamiliar buildings and crowded parking structures
they have sat you waiting and waiting in rooms filled with others
empty-eyed and hollowed worn down by it all
like you
all this, at this— stage next of your final chapter….
its a shame that they can longer can see into we humans without the
cold, metal tools of their trade—– cuffs and devices to read our beating hearts
x-ray, ultrasound and other scanners used to search beneath the derma into organs of mystery, blood and bone
but where in their modern toolboxes lie that which would locate and connect them to our souls…or us to theirs?
in 4.5 minutes, physicians forget how to look into the eyes of a patient, and see fear and overwhelm
in 4.5 minutes in this new assembly-line world its easy to ignore the rules of humanity and kindness, dear friend
yet we continue to ask and wonder:
where, dear god
is the mercy
Tears
wow…this is soooo good…thank you thank you…I helps me understand this situation..what a gifted poet you are…enjoyed much our conversation yesterday…you sound the best I have heard…so glad you are swimming … it sounds and feels like it is working…I will get thru this, I have to….thanks again for this … sent it to a doc friend in england …xd
oh wow, god damn, this brought tears to my eyes….you sure got it…what a genius you are to articulate all this, to distill it all down like you did…you nailed it…thank you…no rush, but would you print that out sometime…I don’t have a printed…thank you thank you….