Cardiologists and such. . . .

a room full of people waiting to have a doctor listen to their hearts
but from here
i can hear them fine
they scream of worry for their health
or the well being of a loved one
impatience is the rhythm of their silent beats

restless and uneasy waiting

we joke and laugh in this room
and we're looked at with jerky head movements
and glaring eyes
are we not supposed to be joyous?
even in these trying moments?
especially in these trying moments?

we laugh like tony has 60 more years to live
we talk about being honest with our doctors
about our past recreational drug use
we laugh at their shock with our honesty

and the room remains cold and still
with the exception of our four square feet of space
can't we shine for others?

we wait to see the doctor
alone in a smaller room
we are quieter
he reads a fantasy novel
a thick one that he'll finish quickly
with more waiting to be read at home

books to take him out of the here and now
and bring his imagination to vivid fruition

the doctor comes in and breaks our comfortable silence
questions begin and a clean bill of health seems to show its head
but its as clean as it can be in his condition
copd
stage 4 emphysema
we don't really talk about how much longer he may have

the doctor takes another listen
with a bigger degree than the nurse
he listens as tony sucks air in through his nose
and wheezes out powerfully through his mouth

124/80
he says it's good
there's no concern
who pays for someone in a white coat to say,
"you're in good shape"
"you're holding your own"
"we'll see you once a year"

what works?
will anything work?
are we just making him comfortable?
how comfortable is he?

lastly
blood work
needle pricks
to make sure he isn't living on a diet of liver and onions
fish and chips

life is a fragile thing
for my first generation hippie