Workaholic

I went into medicine partly due to heartbreak

The exhaustive training of medical school and residency was a welcome albeit ineffective distraction from my sorrow and loneliness

24-hour shifts are a convenient justification for not keeping in touch with loved ones

Even though the real excuse is my social anxiety and sense of inadequacy

Living within hospital walls, I suspect that I am not the only physician who became a medical doctor to try to forget unrequited love, to escape the world of human relationships

My older colleagues work far more than they need to to make ends meet, far more than any reasonable person would work in a week

Who needs friends or feelings when you have patients and science?

Our skin grows pale under fluorescent lights

Our vision becomes shortsighted as the screens stare unblinkingly

Our hearts forget how to feel carefree

Our muscles atrophy as our brains hypertrophy

Our minds become boxed in with facts, our mental filing cabinets overflow

I am a recovering workaholic working alongside workaholics who do not appear to be in recovery

Perhaps they suspect the same of me

Heads down in the trenches, none of us can know another’s heart

We can only know our own heart, if we listen

We carefully administer medications, surgeries and therapies

We measure progress in numerical metrics of lab values, calculated scores and vital signs

We arrive early and stay late

We work day and night without a break

We always have too much on our plates

We deprive ourselves of sleep, fresh air and food

We know why we have irritable moods

Practicing medicine is an unhealthy, imbalanced lifestyle and we know it

We can only ever heal ourselves

I’m ready to show it

I am finally healing my broken heart

I found that I had to begin at the start

Childhood wounds tangle and bloom

Trauma begets trauma until we change our thoughts, words and actions

Breaking old patterns even as we hold traction

I am love itself, I am the source of what I sought

My cup overflows, it was not all for naught

You Can Have It

Darling, though we’ve never met

You rolled the dice, you placed a bet

That you could win a lawsuit

Born of the heartbreaking news

That your baby died inside you

A horrific experience, true

But of your baby’s death, I had nothing to do

The coroner’s report reveals the truth

Your baby passed away at least a day before you ever walked my way

Darling, I didn’t even lay eyes upon you

I was being a team player, not a baby slayer

In going above and beyond to help another

I didn’t imagine I’d be sued by a mother

You said we dropped the ball

But we were never playing at all

If it is money you are looking for,

Honey you’re knocking on the wrong door

All those years I could have been earning

I spent in medical school learning

about medicine, not about law

Perhaps I wasn’t well trained after all

You want us to take the blame

for your unspeakable pain

Can you imagine what I have given up

just to help you, is it never enough?

For you, I went hungry, I went without sleep

Hard years away from my family, I didn’t see

I got stuck with needles, splashed with blood

Only for you to smear my name like it was mud

On the journey that led me to you,

I gave up love, I gave my life

I turned away from ease and took on strife

Of my own pregnancies, I sacrificed them all

My weeping uterus bled raw

Just to give you my best, I gave up the rest-

My youth, my babies and childbearing years, too many unnumbered tears

I stayed in an abusive relationship throughout medical school

Because the only way to escape my abuser would have been to drop out and forego my education

I stayed in hell for all the women held back from their full potential because of men

Though it was the hardest thing I ever did, and I still have nightmares about him

I don’t feel safe in my skin, but then again I never did

I wonder if I’d do it all again, just to reach out my hand, only to have you bite it

I fought hard to serve you, and serve you I did

Without a word of thanks from you, kid

Then again, we’ve never met

I’m named in your lawsuit, yet

What I’m trying to tell you

Is that my medical degree,

My heart, my mind

My hard work, and all my precious time-

You can have it

It was always yours anyway

Everything I do, dear patient, is for you

I give you my life- you can have my lawsuit too

In trying to hurt me, you only harm yourself

We are all connected in the One True Self

Limitlessness is bliss

Reach out and return the infinite kiss

Available to you at any time

You can have it if you understand this rhyme

Dance with the Devil

I’ve met the Devil plenty of times
He’s a man with a drink in his hand, asking for mine
He’ll buy me a drink and drop a few dimes
But in the end, he’s just another waste of my time

I’ve seen the Devil at close range
I feel his eyes on me; he looks at me strange
When I hesitate to perform his every wish
(Whether or not I know what his wish is)

At first I make him happier than he’s ever felt before
Until I leave his heart panting on the floor
I survive with him til I remember how much I’d thrive without him

Like anesthesia, my amnesia wears off eventually

And when it does it’s like I wake up in the middle of surgery

Open heart in a bloody mess, I struggle to pick myself up and get dressed

Headed for the horizon, under duress, yet determined and strong, I sing my single song

Until I meet my sacred Devil again

And he gives me another chance to burn, another opportunity to learn

How many times must I learn how to get out of a toxic relationship?

Please, let this be the last time

The key lies in prevention, so I laid down a one simple rule:

Never be alone with a man behind closed doors, especially when alcohol is involved

The Devil likes to dance naked with me
His dick points at me like a compass needle
And I’m due-North, though I’d like to head South
His dick feels like a poison mushroom in my mouth
I want to spit it out, and shout:

Devil be gone- we’ve been dancing too long!
My feet hurt and they’re caked with dirt
Haven’t we made each other suffer enough?
Surely, your attachment to me feels rough
When I rip myself away

I’ve ripped myself away from the Devil
Plenty and plenty of times
I hope that I can quit him for life
You are my witness by reading this rhyme