The Pompous Hospital Consultant

The Pompous Hospital Consultant

by Patrick Ganly

The confidant walk,

The arrogant air.

The Saville row suits

and the neatly coiffed hair.

Festooned with their signature stethoscopes swinging.

Spurred on by the bells on their cash machines ringing.

Regarding their patients with consummate ease,

as pacemakers, fistulas, fibroids and fees.

And then when approached by some mumbling lumpkin

whose dress and demeanour proclaim simple bumpkin.

Concerned about the health of his wife,

whose strange sounding illness is threatening her life.

Is answered in high tones and terms academic

of metastases, lymph nodes and matters systemic.

Declaring they’d soon require written permission

for invasive procedures which might grant remission.

The poor man walks off with a stupefied stare,

Like a terrified greyhound being chased by a hare.

“Well,what did he say”, his wife asks through a tear.

“He said you’ll be grand, you’ve nothing to fear.

You’ve  a thing called remission he’s goin’ to invade.

sure he knows what he’s doin’, so don’t be afraid”

She reaches for tissues to stifle her curses,

Saying “don’t worry darlin’, I’ll just ask the nurses.

By Patrick Ganly.

If you would like to hear Paddy read his poem please play the link below: