Whatever happened
To the family physician?
His genial compassionate
Demeanour had a placebo effect,
And you felt at ease
In his presence.
You were half cured
By his kind words.
He could diagnose
By studying your pulse.
He really had the
Touch of a magician.
Now there is
A specialist for every part
Of your anatomy.
When unwell
You go to see him.
Without looking you
In the eye,
He will ask you
What brings you by?
In a tone
Devoid of emotion,
Says we’ll investigate
And do some tests.
When you are done
And armed with a file
Go back and wait for your turn.
Feeling tense and fragile.
After going through your file,
He looks at you with disdain in his eyes.
Everything is fine,
It’s just in your mind.
And scribbles
A prescription in his illegible hand
For sedatives,
And advice to make life style changes.
Exasperated
You look for alternatives.
I suspect even if they have a clue,
It’s a simple case of flu,
They send you for tests
As they get handsome cuts from labs.
Oh where, oh where
Is the family physician,
He didn’t send you
For invasive tests,
And several opinions
He really had
The touch of a magician.
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