Doctor, Do Something!

In my call room
A bang hits my door
It was a call to salvage lives:
Restless road accident victims;

Confused patients with multiple wounds.
Painfully in shock, unaware of my presence –
Distracted by the pain in her lower abdomen.
The huhaha of “my baby” filled her wounded lips!

Shouting behind was a fearful dude:
More confused than the victims.
A good Samaritan he claimed to be –
From a night-club-party to an accident unit.

My words were to bring down his tension,
My treatment plans reeled out to him –
But his heart could not hold a bit.
“Doctor, do something!” was his desire.

Treatment administered:
Proper care granted without bias –
Lacerated lips sutured with great details –
Bruises on legs and face were treated –

Patients stabilised –
Echoing for discharge;
Time to pay for bill –
“Doctor, no money!” they flared.

What an early hour of the day!
Club stars saved by grace!

‘Jaye-jaye’ boys and girls,
‘Buga’ masters and mistresses;
My dues they would not cart away –
This we fought, almost lost but won.

As a medic
My priority’s to save
My reward I respect
My service dues is sacrosanct!



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