surgeon time

Yesterday i watched a man get lungs

He had no lungs

We gave him lungs

Or rather the surgeon 

Gave him lungs

A brilliant man

With thready thumbs

That work on as the ECMO hums

And vitals steady sum

Held the scalped as a paintbrush

Deftly

Gently

ease

And care

And His instruments his paintbrush

As if no one else was there

never seen man 

Use his pinky

Used to stabilize the blade

guess id not seen dedication

Never seen a man afraid

And yet despite his fear was confidence

Was pride of pallid prayer

As he marched on to the morrow

For the patient lying there

‘Hey, lets focus on the patient’

‘Time spent

made up

Somewhere else’

And i felt bad for the fellow

jaw was twitching

Conscious self

He was nice and he was bright and 

he was gifted

To be sure 

For i had Watched him suture

Watched his talent just before

But talent isn't vital

In the trenches 

On the floor

No your talent leaves you naked

In the battlements of war

And i felt worse for the patient

And i felt the surgeon’s right

Even then as fellow trembled 

Fellow tailored through the night

And the surgeon made him stronger

Harder

Readied him to fight

And the fellow he was armored

Scared and shitting far from sight

‘Don’t waste time

Think of the patient

My record’s 60 minutes

Time"

"Time’s a ticking

Just get on with it"

Minutes life-

times on the line

And yet on the clock was ticking

And yet the patient, he survived

Survived to breathe again tomorrow

Breathe and beat and think in time

He will breathe again tomorrow

Genius bore him

Air in rhyme

And he's breathing

And his life breath

Surgeon sutures.

Close him.

Time.

Kid neys

 The hospital is my happy place

But when did that become the case

Or Rather perhaps became the case

The case thats

Down at

Base

At base

And down

At his

Base line

He’s Down

Fluid down 

Down

Its not fine

Still fine to 

whine at

Point 5 9

Or point 5 4 and

Point 5 2

Those kidney

Kids cant

Do.

Cant do

Cant do

Thats Not his base

Line 

line’s more like

Point 3 9

But point 3 9 post

Kidneys

Plant 

His body’s

Sicko

Phant

But see he’s also

3 years old and

He likes blocks and

He likes trolls and

He was watching some odd cartoon

But looked up

Eyes like

Moons

God i love that 

little kid

I dont even know him

dare not

Did

But hes got me round his

toddler 

twig

Of a finger

Dont bring her

Id sing for 

Him

While we ex-

tubated

Graded

Him

Hes got more guts than

Half this place and

Nine tenths of 

The

Human

Race

But its no race

Its commonplace

Born 2 much guts

Kidneys 2 few

But we fixed him.

Fixed him

Kidneys new

Would love to see

Cre-

At inine

Seen point 

three 

two

Hes on the floor

We’ve done whats due

But God 

I wish i

Wish i

knew

Wish i could trust

Could trust my

Self

Im not good enough to

Touch that shelf

But here i am

With BUN’s 

And pharm said something 

A tacro and

Potassium 

maybe 

Maybe a 

phos

A phos and setting

Fluid loss

So let him sleep and

Let him be

Oh kid

A baby 

Hes only three

But we need to fix him

Fix him see

Cre

At

inine

Point

3

Trust

 "Our patients are

trusting us

to..."

To...

Ah alas much ado

for how misconstrued

intoxicating no less

we are so

deeply perfused

and yet refuse

refuse too risk

-y

to be

disabused

of this

this

this grand delus

-ion

Of medicine.

That spares us

the looking glass of

Our own

sorry

mediocrity

our patients do not trust us

any more than we

Trust them.

Trust a stranger

Trust ourselves

Our patients lie naked

Undressed

Allow us

Nay pay us

in exorbitant amounts they

cannot afford

To enter their bodies

And cut and sew

And cause them pain

And forever they know

They know

They

No.

They

bear our scars

And share our marrs

And

never again are

They

The same.

For we have

been

Inside them.

And yet

they let us 

But please

let us cease this

Grand delusion of

Grandeur

They allow us to cut them and

Read them and

Bleed them

Simply because they have

no

choice

No choice and

no

freed 

-om.

They've not a voice

They wouldn't be here if they

Had absolutely any other

choice

at all.

We have jobs

I fear

Only because the alternative to 

Our touch and

Our scalpels and

our vile

-lation

Our knowing them more intimately than they will ever

know themselves

From the inside

Their lying naked and unconscious and

bound

in a room of

Strangers

is nothing more or less terrible

Than choosing not to

Refusing to be fixed and

Succumbing perhaps to 

The abnormality

The sickness 

The pain

The death.

And so

Rather than face the abyss or bliss of

unknown and

Ending this

lifetime

They accept, on occasion, that

Allowing us to fix them 

Is mild to moderately more palatable

Or at least perhaps less frightening

The evil

They know

As it

Were.

But please

Oh please 

Let us once and for all cease

this grand shared delusion

That our patients trust

Us

We are human

We are fallable

And yet

Somehow

It doesn't matter

Doesn't really matter that

our Patients

Don't trust us

At all.

Because the ending is the same

Regardless.

This discourse I'm afraid is

Of no consequence

For

We

get up

We scrub in

We violate them deeply

And

If we're very lucky

very lucky

And we work very

Very

hard

And we sacrifice all to the point 

The point of our own 

Sorry and sorrowful demise

We so despise

ourselves

resent our sale of souls

Medicine may pave the path to 

greatness 

to

Gds own grace and 

power

but in lifetime's greatest hour

The devil mans the toll.

his booth an ever hellish hole 

That toll

for which we have

bartered away our

humanity

But if we do

die that death

and

sacrifice

just so

Then maybe

Just maybe

We fix them.

Maybe

Someday

We will be the

bumbling fool the

monkey with a

scalpel and wrench

drenched

in human ex

-crement

The stench

-ful prime paradox

we are so mocked in

merciless irony

unceasingly the

mumbling mighty moron who

saved

Some body.

Who allowed

A patient

A person

Some stranger

enough time

time we will never know 

perhaps

enough time to

Live to 

Learn to

Trust.

Not us.

A loved one

A dear one

A friend

Perhaps through our hands

Gd alone may extend

to them

the time they need to

Trust

After all.