In the clinic,
I had planned to see patients
A few days early
Because…
I had something else that needed to be done several days later.
So there I was
Trying to plan
To fit in
Everything,
Every little thing
Into the time that I had
Even though
During this time, of seeing people in masks
And protective eyewear
We had to re-invent what we did
Most days.
We had apparently gotten things done
For him
The last time
as
His shoulder pain was gone,
His blood pressure controlled
His diet had changed
His wife’s MS under control
So, all was well?
And I proceeded forward, thinking
That we had gotten a bit of a break
That we had found
A tempo
A rhythm for this one day
Rhythm
Is what I long for
Settling into
a back and forth
An exchange,
A flow with patients
And with people
Like two hands
Joining,
Grasping…
Like two ears
Listening
For something to emerge
From deep within the other
A reaching
A plea
A cry that is received
Like a delicate gift
Cradled
Held close to the chest
enveloped, protected,
loved…
And then,
as is part of my routine,
I listened to his heart,
And heard it skip,
Then come back,
Then an early beat,
A late one,
A chaotic rhythm
No real pattern.
And I realized
That In my attempt to find some order,
That it was another COVID day,
Irregularly irregular
September 2020
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