Years ago I wrote, “I love my patients,
Years ago I wrote, “I love my patients,
not as a group but one by one,”
never thinking a time would come
when a patient would read my poem
back to me and offer her love.
But I had rehearsed my reply
many times: “Yes, strong feelings
are part of treatment, and I am glad
you are telling me,” though I was
already planning a consultation
with a colleague. And I was preparing
for her rage, wishing love could be
as simple as radioactive sugar
I’ve seen on lovers’ PET scans,
glucose surging into cells,
the brain lit up in primary colors,
another hungry organ
determined to be satisfied.