The transformation of an average man into a hypochondriac.
(First published in the Mathematica exotica)
Theorem: The transformation of an average man into a hypochondriac can be represented by the following equation:
dT (quantum of transformation)=(aX+ bYn+C)/D
Where X is the doctor’s contribution; Y is the impact of medical tests and reports; n depends on mood, mental balance and method of the laboratory technicians; C is a constant and represents hospital ambience or lack of it; D can be anything.
Proof:
Dear Doctor, what ails me?
"We don’t know yet; we need to see.
Get this test and that scan done.
Till then, we can’t say much, Son."
Dear Doctor, what ails me?
"Get admitted and we shall see.
It could be Chicken Pox or Malaria,
Dengue, SARS or hysteria."
Dear Doctor, what ails me?
"Let me flip thro’ your case history.
Ahem! I prescribe you this latest test.
I advise you a month of hospital rest."
Dear Doctor, what ails me?
"We think you are hale and hearty.
Old boy, take this whopping bill,
These bulky reports and some bitter pills."
Dear Mirror, what ails me?
"A vague disease caught your fancy."
The story ends on this sombre note,
Hypochondriacs are made thus, no doubt!
Author notes
A light-hearted dig at the propensity of modern doctors to subject the patient to a plethora of tests. Hospitals are so commercialized that the doctors work in tandem with managements to ensure high returns. No wonder that the cost of medical care is exorbitant.
Written May 28th, 2005
A contest entry
- Hospitals (First Prize 300 Points!) by PromptBananaParty.
300 points, ended June 5, 2005, 11 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
-
Quite an interesting theory you have here! I like your sense of humor. Applause!
-
Yeah, I bet you're right: Doctors create hypochondriacs. I've never forgiven my GP for not being able to tell if I had arthritis or not. He just referred me to a new doctor, an "expert" on arthritis. Just make it stop hurting, dude! Geez! Anyway, a very clever poem.
-
Yes, doctors are so eager with their pills. They put you through these hoops, and you're waiting and waiting with a magazine from 1998. Sometimes I think I'm a hypochondriac....I need a new hobby!
Edited on May 30, 5:53 p.m. because ''. -
nice, brought a smile to my face... it's nice to read some light hearted stuff after a long time...
Adding your comment:
3 old applause
