We talk about our Doctors, and hope we’re on good terms.

They help us with our ailments when we’re overcome with germs.

You front up to the surgery, you’re asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

If I knew I wouldn’t be here, that’s why I’m paying you.

We used to call them doctors but now they’re called physicians,

But to cure the current high tech bugs, they’d have to be magicians.

Some specialise in hearing, others concentrate on sight,

While some become psychiatrists and specialise in fright.

Some feel that Dermatology is where they’re suited best,

While a Gastroenterologist is something to digest.

Now all those big words might be great, but the one that tops my list

Is the one that minds my ticker, yep, my Cardiologist.

I had a by-pass years ago, ‘twas Two Thousand and One.

Apparently it was urgent, I was on a downhill run.

Five blockages they told me, stents would not solve the quest,

And realisation soon hit home when they came and shaved my chest.

I woke up in the ICU, my family at my side.

I thought of what I’d put them through, without restraint, I cried.

Emotions just took over; your ego out the door;

It’s time like this you realise just what your heart is for.

Most folks were sympathetic, but one, I must insist;

The person that I dreaded most, the PhysioTERRORIST.

She made me cough to clear my lungs, the pain was so intense,

I likened it to coughing up barbed wire off the fence.

“Hold the pillow hard against your chest to help protect your heart”

As if the pillow will save much when the stitches burst apart.

Then blow into this plastic thing, try to hold the bubble high;

5 seconds is a damned long time when you’re lungs are running dry.

But overall I’m thankful, I got a second life,

With six Grandkids, two Children and a bloody fantastic wife.

Yet one should still be mindful, sometimes life can take a twist,

As I found out quite recently from my Cardiologist.

You see, the stress test turned out negative, with flat spots on the chart;

Apparently the blood supply fed just one side of the heart.

This supply came from the bypass which I had some years ago;

The main supply completely blocked and little did I know.

A CAT Scan led to Hospital to confirm the course of action.

The nurses and the other staff surpassed my satisfaction.

Then came a flood of questions, which I guessed would be required.

And they asked if I had allergies? “Yep, needles” I replied.

But most of all my “Cardi” who explained in full detail;

Just how she’d overcome the snarl that caused the blood to fail.

She didn’t hold the punches, she let me know just where I stood.

She filled my mind with confidence and to me that’s bloody good.

I’m up and running once again, well, walking more the like.

I’ll not take on the Kakoda Track; but maybe a ten yard hike.

But thinking of these past events, you just don’t realise;

Don’t blame it all on getting old; don’t wait for a surprise.

The moral of this piece of verse in some convoluted way,

Is that sometimes, someone quite remote can really make your day.

So come December when sorting out who’s on your Christmas list;

Your family first but don’t neglect, your Cardiologist.