Saturday, March 3, 2012

Doctors

Dr. Demerton diverges from strict protocol,
taking out his ink pen and prescribing trephining
for a patient complaining of an itchy scalp.

How many ear aches can one man stand to encounter
before his mind tears into ragged strips,
like a wet napkin?

How many common colds can he diagnose before wishing to 
press each stuffy head down into a basin full of water 
until all complaints subside?

Next door, Dr. Baynedda cures all with a toss of her hair,
or a sultry glance above her bookish eyeglasses.
White canes and old wheelchairs accumulate outside by the dumpster,
while their owners cartwheel home
or read eye charts placed in the next county.

When Dr. Baynedda walks in, she dispenses cures from the pockets of her immaculate white coat,
and nothing hurts, ever, except the sharp pangs of desire
felt by her patients,
her staff,
and even by people in far away countries at the simple mention of her name.

Dr. Demerton feels eclipsed, and a little bit depressed,
watching the misery which teems in his waiting room,
be it ever so common;
be it ever so dull.
He strays further and further from standardized practice,

incorporating voodoo, the herb smoke, and 
non HMO approved pentagrams into his treatments.
But still,

everyone prefers Dr. Baynedda.
One visit, and soft white-feathered wings emerge from their once-slumped shoulders.
One smile from her, and sluggish hearts race,
twisted, useless limbs become supple and strong,
and the dead--yes, the dead!--rise, just to fall at her feet in adoration.

Dr. Demerton gives up practice, becomes a busker in the subway,
with a little fez-wearing monkey he rescued from a lab
by holding the director and his staff at bazooka point.

And Dr. Baynedda?
She wears the uniform of mercy,
the colorful costume of genuine radiance,
and all who see her, all who seek her,
become pilgrims on a holy journey
into Yes Sugar Yes.
_______


 for my own Fireblossom Friday prompt, "I Love A Man (Or Woman!) In Uniform". I think white lab coats count.

 

11 comments:

Brian Miller said...

dang...i need to do a little search...i might be feeling a cough coming on you know...

fezed monkeys are pretty cool though...

Cloudia said...

uniform of mercy
fez wearing monkey


*awe*


Aloha from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral

>< } } ( ° >

Lynn said...

Love that last line, "yes, sugar, yes."

blueoran said...

How different the promise of what those identical uniforms deliver ... Marvellous unspooling of the skein through the labyrinth of healing, which is more about truly knowing what we need than any physic we receive. Funny, I new a doctor Pemberton when I was a kid, friend of the family, he gave me stethescope once that I played with endlessly in the empty environs of my room, remembering all those earlier days of playing doctor as a child. The real thing never sufficed half as much as the fantasy of the fantasy ... B

hedgewitch said...

This made me smile hugely, even in my dazed and confused condition. I'm not feeling too thrilled about the medical profession after dealing with a lot of red tape--where was Br Baynedda, I ask. I got Dr. Robot-O.

Mama Zen said...

Girl, this is so cool! A priceless, one of a kind, only Shay poem.

Kerry O'Connor said...

I love the image of the wheelchair-abandoning, cartwheeling patients. This says a lot about the healing power of compassion - something that should be noted by many in the healing profession.

Laurie Kolp said...

A little TLC goes a long way.

Mary Mansfield said...

So, does anyone know if Dr. Baynedda is taking new patients?

A great write comparing two totally different takes on doctor-patient relationships. Liked it a lot.

Lolamouse said...

It's amazing what some good doctoring can do for you! I know a handful of doctors that I'd love to send to the subway with cups and monkeys and get them out of medicine!

myheartslovesongs said...

i've wondered how much healing is accomplished with actual medical SCIENCE and how much because we BELIEVE....

LOVE this, SP!!!