A flight of ideas, clumped together, wandering around like atrial fibrillation.

Exhaustion and Fatigue

I pretend that I’ll write
After work, so inspired,
But more often than not
I am just, grossly tired,
Overly fatigued
From the labors of thinking,
Junk food snacking
And coffee drinking,
Weight-lifting patients
Who didn’t diet, last year,
Decubitus ulcers
Draining gallons of beer,
Or something quite similar
I kid you, not,
It smells like it’s fermented
And has the thickness of snot.

What clients like these
Are doing at our station,
We can’t figure out
It’s an abomination,
We’re a Cardiac Unit
It’s supposed to be clean,
But the hospital has become
An infection machine,
Where any Tom, Bill or Mary
With a debilitating disease,
Will squander our resources
Can you say, “Medicare, please?”

Now, the specialist doctors
And in-house boss leaders,
Looked hard at statistics
And the money-loss bleeders,
They initiated a recommended
Model of care,
An around-the-clock doctor
Is the latest fresh air,
To attack any problem
Or intervene in a crisis,
They will drown it with knowledge
And life-saving devices,
And the specialist doctors
Can be home with the wife,
Finally having a chance
To live a doctor-normal life.

Now, this 24-hour physician
Is the latest twist,
They have a catchy kind of name
Hospital-ist,
And they seem kind of young
Like they recently jumped ship,
They have their hand-held computers
And their language is hip,
They say, “no problem” and “what‘s up”
When they’re paged at oh-four-hundred,
Often reluctant to make decisions
And be accused that they blundered,
In the middle of the night
With a patient they didn’t know,
So, it’s business as usual
In this medical picture show.

Once again, I have rambled
“Like, what was the point?”
You are probably thinking
I was smoking a joint,
But it all had to do
With exhaustion and fatigue,
This ain’t the sandbox, boy
“Like, it’s totally, major league”.

Fibril_late;
4/28/08