Passion…unbridled

I open my work e-mail and the first one I see

By my first name addresses me

In the same group e-mail my male colleagues as Dr. _ are addressed

I am annoyed but there’s nowhere my annoyance can be expressed

*

I move on, and proceed to see the first patient of the day

Despite introducing myself as the doctor, I am called Ms. anyway

I am used to it, I do not give it much thought

These are not battles worthy of being fought

*

Another patient calls me “Honey” in a tone of condescension

The next one continues to call me a nurse, in his inattention

Despite my attempts to correct him- later a complaint I hear

That “the doctor has not been in here”

*

A new patient expresses surprise that I am not a man

I try to brush it away, with as much indifference as I can

Giving the patient the benefit of doubt- perhaps he was genuinely surprised

But unfortunately I did see the disappointment in his eyes

*

I tell myself not to worry about how I am perceived

Not being called a doctor does not take away the rigorous training I’ve received

But the micro-aggressions add up each time, leaving me demoralized

And this is something male physicians do not even realize..

I am trained to evaluate research papers critically

The underlying assumption being that I read the paper thoroughly

I pick up a medical journal and find an article to my practice relevant

To read it in its entirety is my noble intent

*

The abstract is promising, I continue to read

The introduction makes compelling arguments indeed

For the study rationale, the study design is simple enough

But reading through all the methodology is tough

*

I reach the results section but it is too detailed

A picture is worth a thousand words, so where words have failed

To keep me interested, figures come to my rescue

A careful look at the graphs should be sufficient too

*

Now comes the discussion- I have started losing my concentration

I skip through several paragraphs and get to the study limitations

The conclusion of the study I try to commit to memory

At the end of the day, that is the only information necessary

*

I’ve described reading an article when my motivation is high

More often than not, I just read the abstract, I won’t lie

My dwindling attention span is capable of absorbing less and less

Reading research articles is not my cup of tea, I confess

Are my brain cells dead or just dormant

Or are they overworked to such an extent

That I find it difficult to absorb information new

My memory does not serve me as well as it used to..

*

When I see my peers embarrassed I feel

My inability to remember I don’t want to reveal

I’m not that old, I need to ensure my grey cells last

A little longer, but I seem to be losing them fast

*

Though information is available readily, I have to rely

On what I remember, even though I try

To remember details from weighty journal articles, I fail

I use mnemonics and associations to no avail

*

My brain on a daily basis I exercise

But I tend to sleep poorly, therefore it’s no surprise

That my brain cells for heavy mental work seem unprepared-

My brain-washing system that works during sleep is impaired

*

Nostalgia sweeps over me as I think of bygone days

When my brain cells and memory worked in remarkable ways

To help me excel in my medical training

I regret how my mental faculties are waning

*

All I want to do is preserve the function of my brain

As long as possible, to be able to read and retain

New information, because in my profession I need

To be able to understand and act on what I read indeed

In an era marked by a sense of doom and gloom

The wellness industry has blossomed and boomed..

*

We are all overworked, stressed and sleep-deprived

Desperately looking for strategies to help us thrive

We find it difficult to eat right, regularly exercise

That we deal with chronic ailments comes as no surprise

We don’t feel well, therefore we chase

All kinds of wellness trends these days..

*

Wellness is a nearly seven trillion dollar industry

In pursuit of good health or an illusion of it, people spend money

Including yoga, nutritional supplements , mindfulness and meditation

Wellness devices, apps, procedures and a conglomeration

Of nontoxic and organic products- the sky is the limit here

As the wellness industry taps into people’s fears..

*

The future of wellness industry is bright

As stress from politics and extreme weather events we fight

In the future artificial intelligence would probably be able to make

Personalized recommendations for your wellness, a customized prescription that you can take

*

As for me, my life with sickness and health is intertwined

Many wellness fads do not register in my mind

But I believe a good night’s sleep is the best

Wellness hack, so I must go and rest

The feminine urge to dress up for an event

Is always alive to a certain extent

Even when you think you are bone-tired

The energy to choose a stunning attire

For a party, you can always summon

You know you are going to strive to be someone

Whose appearance draws both envy and admiration

Who gets to be the cynosure of all eyes, garnering attention..

*

You know you are not that woman, you do not possess

The patience that is required to appear well-dressed

From head to toe, including make-up and hair

You try a little, but you really don’t care

Your hair is unruly but at least your outfit is good enough

Quickly you try to smooth some edges rough

By then you are already running a little late

You depart for the party, in a pretty stressed state

*

You are somewhere in the middle in how you are dressed

You look fairly nondescript, certainly not one to impress

Another woman strikes up a conversation with you

And you open up about the work that you do

The conversation pivots to work and other interests

Those are the areas that fortunately you like best

*

Suddenly you are in your element, and your appearance

Has been rendered inconsequential in the presence

Of other facets of your life that you can now talk about

Moving past superficial appearances, you are relieved without a doubt…

If people loved themselves more

They would have less angst to endure..

*

It’s easy to latch onto criticism so tenaciously

That you constantly admonish yourself subconsciously

For failing to reach standards you have set high

Your inner monologue tries to imply

That you are unworthy, this message you internalize

It becomes the backstory of your life before you realize

*

You fail in relationships, you find it difficult to excel

At anything you do, you are under the spell

Of self-loathing- how do you learn to give

Love to others when without love for yourself you live?

*

It takes supreme effort to change the monologue in your head

From self-loathing to learning to love yourself instead

But once you start treating yourself with love and kindness

You attract the same vibes- you make real progress

Once you start loving yourself unconditionally

Love enters your life from all directions in reciprocity..

*

It is hard to love yourself in a world that seems to thrive

On keeping our insecurities, our inner critics alive

But if only people would love themselves more

They would attract more love for sure

There are so many thoughts I would like to express

But I am afraid, I’ve learnt to suppress

My true thoughts and say only what is expected of me

I have no desire to invite criticism unnecessary 

I don’t want to be viewed as an iconoclast

I definitely don’t want to be a social outcast..

*

I confess I carry thoughts inside me that feel 

Contrary to what society accepts, that reveal

A preference for things outside social norms

But when I express myself, for the society I perform

*

It makes me sad to realize that I might never find

The courage to express what truly is in my mind

My thoughts and ideas I don’t want to take to the grave

In an internal monologue my most unorthodox ideas I save

*

The need to express myself is an existential one

I can do that in writing, that is seen by no one

I am not looking to change the world nor change any minds

I simply want to resolve the constant confusion in my mind

Between my independent ideas and what I’ve been taught 

This is a battle that only through expression can be fought

*

So let me take a few moments to write about

Something that has caused me consternation throughout

Maybe I shall discover a perspective new

Maybe I shall find middle ground too

I had erroneously assumed that to be creative

In an unstructured environment I needed to live

Where there would be no set schedule to follow

Where I could get into a state of flow

Unfettered by time and life’s never-ending chores

If only I were free, I could write so much more…

*

I could not have been more wrong, later I realized

Creative endeavors needed discipline, to my surprise

Following a structured path and trying to carve for creative expression

Enough time in a disciplined fashion

Was actually what I needed in order to write

With time dedicated to writing, I could keep a goal in sight

*

Of course inspiration can strike any moment

When it does, I file away the idea with the intent

To execute it during my scheduled time to write

This way writer’s block less frequently I fight

*

Even though creativity cannot by time be constrained

To keep creative endeavors alive, discipline should be maintained

To be a conscientious doctor, I would strive to be

Available and responsive to my patients readily

When I met patients I would try to provide

Reassurance to them that I was by their side

I encouraged them to send in their questions or concerns

I had an intent to answer them promptly, phone calls return

Within a day or two, I wanted to address

Anything that was causing them distress

I thought it would help keep hospitalizations at bay

Allow my sick patients at home to stay

I also saw patients when they requested appointments urgent

To turn no one away was my intent

Of course, I wanted to build my reputation too

Being available to patients seemed the right thing to do

*

My practice expanded, my workload did as well

I tried to keep up but soon I could tell

That there was no way I could reply to my patients’ queries

Engaging with their questions was a practice I needed to cease

I had to limit seeing patients added on to my schedule

At the last minute, they would be seen by appointment only as a rule

*

The patients did not like this change as I had feared

My image was tarnished, now I appeared

To be callous, or lazy, and everything in between

Truthfully, this was additional workload that went largely unseen

By the powers to be, I was staying late every day

To keep my patients satisfied in every way..

*

I asked for help, an assistant to convey

Whatever it was that I wanted to say

To patients, some still resented me for the lack

Of direct communication, but I knew I could not go back

My assistant would now help me decide

Whether I needed to see someone urgently so that I could adequate care provide

*

I am a less than perfect doctor now

But imperfect communication has allowed

Me to focus on actual patient care

There aren’t enough hours in the day to spare

In responding to patients’ questions, I have to delegate

This responsibility to someone else in order to accommodate

An ever increasing number and complexity

Of the patients that I am trained to see

Not just equal, but equitable

Everybody gets a seat at the table

Equal opportunity leading to equity

Welcoming all, practicing inclusivity

Letting diverse voices chime in

That is how I thought we would win

*

That playbook has been nullified

Principles of equity stand vilified

It’s all about merit, they say

But the focus on merit had never gone away

The table is like a country club exclusive

That admission to only the privileged few gives

*

I continue to believe that a sovereign society is just

Once outrage dies down, and we see settling of the dust

The conversations around these topics shall be revived

I daresay these liberal ideas shall survive

Whenever I come across advice for writers to show, not tell

I admit I’m perplexed, I don’t comprehend well

How a reader would be able to picture the exact scene the writer has visualized

The difference between reading a book and watching a film in my eyes

Lies in being able to conjure a scene that has its foundation

In the writer’s words but is built on the reader’s imagination

While watching a film, the producer’s vision is shown

But while reading, the scene is visible to the reader alone

*

A writer may use language to describe in vivid detail his or her vision

But the same description every reader would in a different manner envision

Thus writers do not really “show” but tell

The readers what to imagine, the best ones just do it exceptionally well..

*

If I want to be told how a scene unfolds, a book I would read

If I want to be shown, watching a film is what I would need

We are so divided that other people seem to face

An alternate reality from us in the same physical space

We do not understand their point of view at all

Nor do they comprehend ours, we hit a wall

Talking about everyday lives, even in a conversation mundane

From running into diametrically opposite viewpoints we cannot refrain

*

In what world do we live where the same facts appear

To have opposite contexts, we retreat into discomfort and fear

When conversations contentious tones acquire

Making small talk utmost caution requires

*

There has to be common ground we can find

We must be able to communicate with an open mind

Be ready to acknowledge that what we believe

To be the reality is not completely true, while what the other side perceives 

Is not completely false either, the truth lies somewhere

In the middle, but we have drifted too far on one side to be aware…