Thursday, September 6, 2012

Cure (Worse Than The Disease)

Sixty long minutes
with Infallible Doctor,
alluring, but distant,
in his oversize chair.
He tries to talk me to cure,
asks framed, feckless questions.
Then, shakes his head in surprise
at my mistrustful stare.

Next, a witty internist
imported from Pittsburgh
brings his learning and love
of electronics to bear.
Entangling wires, evolving theories
of voltage.
I'm shocked from my toes
to the tips of my hair.

So, come dashing knight
in pharmaceutical armor!
Come bearing Prozac
and relentless good cheer.
I'll be here waiting
with cottonmouth kisses.
Energetic, but aimless,
and not thinking too clear.

A Flipside poem.

19 comments:

Fireblossom said...

"cottonmouth kisses". I love that. I expect you're referring to dry mouth from medication, but it sounds more sinister than that, which is why I like it.

Mary said...

Might I just say....All sounds unpleasant to me: the infallible doctor, the witty internist, and the pharmaceutical guy. What a team!

Michael said...

relentless good cheer. im stealing this...be advised.

Carol Steel 5050 said...

Wow. You have captured the stunned disbelief that comes at hearing a diagnosis which shocks the system. And you've grown a list of descriptions about how the medical community glad-hands one off to each level of treatment. It is always a bargain with the devil trading the cure for the illness, a choice of what is "least worse." I hope this experience is fiction but if it isn't, I wish you well. I know how all of this feels. The poem is superb.

Far Beyond The Ridge said...

Can i skip the foreplay and go straight to the orgasm of prozac?
Rick

Brian Miller said...

shock therapy...got to love it you know...careful what they talk to you into...the sideaffects are worse than the diagnosis

Kerry O'Connor said...

A case of the cure being worse than the initial malady: life.

hedgewitch said...

Creeped totally out by that breed of doctor that claims to know it all, to be able to solve the dilemmas of soul with a pill or a 'treatment.' I often wonder if all those who've undergone electro-shock therapy for depression found the pain and fear better or worse than being depressed...frankly, it seems on par with blood-letting and medieval torture to me. Rather a terrifying low key horror story here, MZ.

Claudia said...

haha...love the dashing knight
in pharmaceutical armor... and i distrust doctors generally...but psshhh..don't tell anyone..

manicddaily said...

Cottonmouth kisses - makes me think of snake here - The Cadeucis? I don't know how you spell it - biting its head. Crazy.

Well done. Kind of awful. (Not as a poem but as experience. I'm not taking it as yours, but it is terribly common.) k.

She Writes said...

Distrust anyone imported from Pittsburgh! Kissing with cotton mouth and after shocked isn't kissing at all ;).

Daydreamertoo said...

Yikes, this all sounds like a bad dream ...gone wrong!
Hope YOU are ok!

Heaven said...

I am wary of those knights with prozac and cheers...good one MZ ~

Margaret said...

I can't believe what you have created with that list of words! Just fantastic! Infallible Doctor, alluring, but distant is so spot on! But then, there do exist, those that are worth their weight in gold.

flipside records said...

"He tries to talk me to cure" ... Ooh, I like your spin on "talk me to death."

Big smiles for this:
"imported from Pittsburgh
brings his learning and love
of electronics to bear"

I really dig "evolving theories of voltage," and your humorous double meaning in "shocked."

"aimless, and not thinking too clear" ... Nice. :)

I agree that if we're really talking about medicine, the cure is usually worse than the disease, causing new ailments and side effects worse than the original problem. In this case, the doctor is a therapist. But it could also be a metaphor for anyone trying to "help" or fix you---different methods/people having different effects. I love this, MZ. Thanks for writing. :)

happygirl said...

Shocked from my toes the tips of my hair. So many flips in so few words. This was a fun one.

PattiKen said...

You nailed it. I traveled at my daughter's side through her diagnosis and treatment of breast cancer (she's six years cancer-free now), and we met all those people, plus some. Most of the time, she was so stunned, she could barely speak, but when she did, she was cotton-mouthed.

Sheila said...

wow, I can understand this. funny we both wrote about this topic.

my heart's love songs said...

i'd laugh if this weren't so sad! or maybe it's cry if it weren't so funny?

um... were you saying some.....

{twirling my hair and staring vacantly into the corner}