Role of a physician: “Cure Sometimes, Treat Often, Comfort Always”- Hippocrates
These days I often have a sinking feeling
Fogged in despair, my head is reeling
Did I somehow, gravely misunderstand
The role of a physician, that healing hand
Why do I encounter, more and more
Suffering each day, less and less cure?
Technical advancements let us prolong
Life without improving it- something is wrong-
I make them feel better- in the short-term I do
But they keep on suffering, as maladies accrue
I treat their illnesses, but cannot alleviate
Their suffering and pain, which continue to accumulate
For every new setback I can offer solutions-
More testing, procedures, expert consultations
I patch all the holes, while trying to deceive
Myself, trying my hardest to believe
Whatever I do would miraculously cure
All ills of my patient, old age and more
But this holistic ideal is a mere fantasy
There’s little I change, that I clearly see
My judgment as a physician is probably sound
Based on current practice, but it seems profound
To see how I have but little influence
On their quality of lives, I make not much difference..
**
This is the question I asked myself and God
Not helping people, I felt like a fraud
The answer came to me one day in my sleep
Brilliant in its simplicity, it was deep
Treating the ailment was where I paid attention-
Treating the patient would give me more satisfaction
So I changed my strategy, trying to comprehend
The patient as much as his illness, to make amends
For all these years where my focus had been wrong
I wonder why I practiced that way for so long
**
I am but an instrument in the hands of Almighty
I try my best to heal, that’s my role in society
But more than that, I try to remember I can
Provide comfort always, to every single man.