Musings In The Waiting Room Poem by C Richard Miles

Why do they give you nine-o’clock appointments
When they’re not even ready until ten
For they just end up passing disappointments
And drive you screaming right around the bend?

Why are the books and magazines outdated
In dreaded dingy doctors’ waiting rooms
For all impatient patients who have waited
And grumpily sit round gathering gloom?

Why is the peeling wallpaper intended
To hold no cheer for all the worried well
Who queue for mere placebos, to be mended
And hope that medicine will work its spell?

Why do we smile and meekly nod so sweetly
When slothful nurse, late-running, calls for us
Instead of disabusing her completely
Of the delay she’s caused, and make no fuss?

Why are we scared of questioning the doctor
When he tells us there’s nothing much to mind
Because if next time we have got a shock to
Our system, we fear he won’t be as kind?

Why don’t we spend a minute on reflecting
Upon the hard work that our medics do
To stop world-wide pandemics from infecting
Us, like smallpox. typhoid, dysentery and flu?

Is it because we feel so self-important
When minor ailments get us all upset?
So if we really stop and think, we oughtn’t
Grumble: we’re not dead; we’re living yet.