I’m the owner of some useless tools.
But I love them, without any rules.
These tools are just like my dearest son
They are young, but their passions are gone
They are my medical tools; they are now rusted
They shouldn’t touch you; your body wasn’t trusted.
My smart Stethoscope isn’t a deaf numb
He can’t hear your heart; “she” is a fool dumb
My brilliant Ophthalmoscope isn’t blind.
It’s a dead sign; your pupil is too wide.
My Othoscope can’t find a way through your ear.
For him, your hearing isn’t any more a “Dear.”
You are a traitor to the human manner
You don’t need anymore the Reflex Hammer
How often does your heartbeat?
Will you remember my first aid kit?
Where is gone your breath, your sense, your pulse?
You are nothing anymore; all your tests are false.
Your feelings are dead; you are not fine.
What should I write in place of Vital Sign?
There isn’t any heart shadow in your X-Ray
Will you miss my physical exams a day?
You are finished, don’t need drugs.
Your ECG has so many bugs.
You know where I’ve parked my Ambulance?!
Maybe he has escaped from your appearance!
My White Coat is afraid of you.
You have even frightened my cutters too!
You are pregnant. You have a big alien.
Even Czar’s Physician can’t do your cesarean.
You suffer from a rotten malignancy.
The “Mercy Killing” is your only emergency.
You aren’t anymore, my patient. You are dead.
Many ill people are waiting out there. Leave your bed.
My tools can’t help you anymore.
Go. YOU ARE DISMISSED. I’m sure.
After you, I’ll be retired too.
In my job, you have no right to sue.
I have no care, no cure. Get out of this stage!
For you, there isn’t even an adhesion bandage!
I tried; I have done my very best to save you.
All you’ve paid was ungrateful to this Rendezvous.
“Don’t trust your patients.” this is my Thesis.
They remind me of the story of Judas and Jesus.
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