tommysativa

being a doctor is something weird. It's nothing I really aspired to. It is something I simply let myself become. but it is a title I am often embarrassed to declare. It carries with it so much shit. When I speak and call people patients, I am insulted, like I just stole away their humanity. Why can't we all just be people? Why can't I just be a person with knowledge and skills, maybe even gifts? Why do I have to portray an image and dance to a legislator's tune? I don't, but I do. I submit myself to the illusion. I compromise and endure that reality; for a shot to currupt it with my dreams. I take my stand at the edge and watch on as the sickness rages forth. I steal a moment or two with any cell that passes my way, hoping to revive its true vitality, to reconnect it to itself, its source and its kindred. I hope my chores will empower them to fight the cancers that rage amongst us, that inflict us and deprive us of our souls. I pray for symbiosis to manifest between the parasite and the host. Maybe that's why this path spilled out before me, knowing full well that I wouldn't walk along with my head shrouded in a white coat. But sometimes I look at this world and feel like we're all on death's doorstep; life and harmony succombing to the entropy and chaos of greed and hatred. It's hard to grasp these things some days with a wonderful, beautiful child whimpering in my clinic, sitting on her worried mother's lap with an eardrum ready to burst, knowing what they can afford will barely advance my effort to fill that mortgage payment envelope sitting on my desk, inside my clinic, next to my home and on a small plot of land that isn't really owned by me at all, but by a bank that will reap more than double the purchase price by the time the deed changes hands, grossly inflating the cost of living and making life for that mother and daughter all that much harder; all for the glory of america and the cause of capitalism. Still, I have hope; for symbiosis, for remission, for cure.