The Patient - Poem by Sara Stowell
He stumbled through the hospital doors.
Barely conscious, he requested aid.
Then he passed out and collapsed on the floor,
Feeling his life beginning to fade.
The Emergency room team reacted,
Their response was efficient and swift.
Still unsure what the man had contracted,
But this was common on the night shift.
Yet this one was strange, they’d soon discover.
For the patient was hardy and hale.
No hidden disease could they uncover,
While every treatment they tried did fail.
When the patient came to they asked him his name,
To find his medical history.
“I can’t remember! ” They heard him exclaim.
“Tell me please, what’s happening to me? ! ”
The doctors were baffled, “We have no clue! ”
They’d run every test and every scan.
“We can’t explain what’s doing this to you,
But we are doing all that we can.”
They worked through the night, on this mystery.
‘Twas the strangest case they ever faced.
A dying patient who appeared healthy,
It was like he was being erased.
By the afternoon, he was close to death,
The doctor’s efforts never ended.
Yet as the patient breathed his final breath,
A veil of darkness then descended.
Slowly consciousness began to return,
She shook the cobwebs out of her head.
A doctor spoke, she could hear his concern.
“For a moment we thought you were dead.”
She said; “Doctor, I’ve had the strangest dream,
I really don’t know how to explain.”
He thought, perhaps that’s what caused her to scream.
The procedure couldn’t cause such pain.
She’d cried out during the operation,
Though anesthesia had been applied.
Just a momentary aberration,
During which, the doctor claimed she died.
“We aren’t quit sure what actually caused it,
Some kind of shock would be my first guess.
It has left me baffled, I must admit,
But the abortion was a success.”
She began to cry as those words sank in,
“That was my son I chose to destroy! ”
Curiously, the doctor stroked his chin.
Wondering how she’d known it was a boy.
Comments about The Patient by Sara Stowell
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You