Med Poetry Healing through Words

In a Dissecting Room

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SIGHTLESS eyes half closed beneath
Long, black lashes curling yet;
Wavy locks the pale face wreathe
With the salty drops still wet…

Ode to a Doctor

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THE Doctor comes, and quick prescribes;
And then, when we are better,
He sends a bill that reads like this…

Heart Disease

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“ I list, as thy heart and ascending aorta
Their volumes of valvular harmony pour,
And my soul, from that muscular music has caught a
New life, ‘ mid its dry anatomical lore.

The Consultation

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THREE doctors, met in consultation.
Proceed with great deliberation;
The case was desperate, all agreed.

Peace Born of Pain

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IN probing Life, wise Doctors look
On it, as men must look on Life
Who, in its very breath

Kindness First Known in a Hospital

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THE place seemed new and strange as death.
The white strait bed, with others strait and white.
Like graves dug side by side at measured lengths.

Surgery vs. Medicine

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I AM a surgeon, and in making this assertion
‘Tis my apology for doing what I can
To set aside that undeserved aspersion
That says, while medicine is quite as old as man.

A Cure for the Gout

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ONCE flourished a famed Dr. Bluff.
A diamond ’twas said in the rough,
He spake nothing save what he meant
And cared little whither it went.

His Pneumogastric Nerve

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UPON an average, twice a week,
When anguish clouds my brow.
My good physician friend I seek
To know “what ails me now.”

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