|POETRY IN ONCOLOGY
|Year : 2020 | Volume
| Issue : 4 | Page : 755-756
Spare the warriors!
Mazumdar Shaw Cancer Centre, Narayana Health City, Bengaluru, Karnataka, India
|Date of Submission||14-Sep-2020|
|Date of Decision||20-Sep-2020|
|Date of Acceptance||23-Sep-2020|
|Date of Web Publication||25-Dec-2020|
Mazumdar Shaw Cancer Centre, Narayana Health City, Bengaluru, Karnataka
Source of Support: None, Conflict of Interest: None
|How to cite this article:|
Khanderia M. Spare the warriors!. Cancer Res Stat Treat 2020;3:755-6
We too have our lives, our struggles, our losses.
Yet we work “not” from home,
for one common goal,
to battle one common enemy.
Wearing multiple layers of plastic,
with PPE, masks, and visors,
that are meant to shield not just us.
We find it hard to breathe.
We sweat and sometimes we bleed.
Spend more energy to be heard.
We itch and sometimes we faint.
But stay put on the task.
The task of not letting your health slip by,
and to stop you when you let your mask slip by.
Just to get accused of being rude in return?
As if we are a roadblock on your way to have fun!
Engrossed in work we lose track of time,
till we hear a scream,
from someone whose dear one was brought in a little too late.
One of us just said “Sorry, he lost the battle,
maybe it was written in fate.”
The shift was getting over
The mayhem got tougher to handle,
We requested the security to step in
to guard us from the broken beer bottles
and took the fire exit as per code violet protocol.
On my way back home I see
hawkers flooded with customers and a lot of cheer.
The pan shop is crowded with a gang of friends,
sharing a few cigarettes and some bottles of beer.
All without masks and without any fear.
“My mask protects you as your mask protects me”
I hold the urge to reiterate and create a scene.
“Maybe fatigue has overtaken them too, not just me”
I mutter to myself, frown and towards home I steer.
To rush for a shower,
and quickly wash off the danger.
Nothing more than a warm supper
and a warm cuddle I crave for.
After winding up the kitchen and some more chores,
I gear up for another battle,
this time with slumber.
Hours of pondering, tossing and turning later
I finally manage to catch a wink.
Only to be woken up by a phone call
to help arrange a bed for a friend's relative
before he sinks.
The morning drudgery gets done
in a semi drowsy state,
Till I take back charge
from those who stood all night on guard
fixing things that were broken.
Well, not all could be fixed.
Some got mended, some broke,
Some just stabilized enough to pull on till the next shift.
Back on the battleground,
we gear up and disperse.
Some of us in the ICU,
Breathing hard to make some breathe better.
The rest of us in the OPD,
Screaming harder to make ourselves heard.
To segregate what can wait and what can't any longer.
To convince some to stay home stay safe.
to urge others to rush to the hospital
before it's too late.
As we struggle with another patient,
we cannot help but mumble,
“Nothing seems to work, no matter how much we try.”
“What's essential? What's not? Who's essential? Who's not?”
“Such a horrible helpless state.”
“But can we not mull over this and focus on the airway please.”
Another mob barges in and vandalizes the place,
claiming their trust has been broken
and doctors are a disgrace.
Some of us got wounded,
Some of us got exhausted,
and couldn't keep up with the task.
Some of us lost the battle because
You got offended and didn't pull up your MASK!!
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Conflicts of interest
There are no conflicts of interest.