In theory, doctors are meant to help patients get well, be well and stay well. There are always notable exceptions.
Mantra despises the doctor’s office because it is an alleged sterile environment without much in the way of inspiration, scenery and, in more cases than not, human interaction. The perfunctory nature of questions and answers, especially those which do not change, is lacklustre.
Couple the blah environment with a provider without care, compassion, concern or any semblance of bedside manner and Mantra grows horns. In this particular case, she chose jet propulsion for a little poem called Drug Rocket. Settle in for a bumpy ride to the doctor’s office.
Today, temper is a huge rocket-mounted nuclear warhead.
The fallout will be far more toxic than radioactive.
The in-flight timer is ticking, destination to be announced.
Wrapped in the uniform you chose to make you look professional,
The misshapen body beneath is indicative of your greed.
The more you patronize, the more someone blows the train whistle,
Warns unsuspecting patients of passionless hypocrisy.
Superiority complex fills the room where your slightness can’t.
Condescension is your specialty, minor in conspiracy.
Medical license is signed in blood of patients who came before.
Your service is still incomplete while funds are available.
See you again in two weeks, after enough time to earn some more.
Not anymore. Clinic is closed; you’ve practiced enough to master
The science of amputating wallets from the dying without
Showing mercy for pain, panic or patient, since you don’t bother
With the outdated notion of bedside manner; it is so cliché
To care about the suffering which gives you the chance to remain
In an office with a hound at your feet; Hygiene be damned, you say.
When EOD comes to the site, your skeleton will not be found.
Bones ground in fury by those you accuse of stealing your honey:
Drug rep samples for the needy, shot before you’re out on the town.
You see, not every patient who ever came to call was like you,
An addicted fox with the prescription key to the henhouse door.
Enjoy Hades’ wares. You’re too high to know they are all placebo.
How do you feel about drug reps leaving samples with doctors? Should doctors be required to submit to routine drug tests? When should medical licenses be revoked?
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