20,000 Patients
Realize,
Foremost,
With 20,000 patients!
But accountability is what we need;
And like the investigative act of your muse in the land of trouble,
But you still need the research of my academic studies to help all these patients.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Related quotes
Old Dr. Valentine To His Son
Your hopeless patients will live,
Your healthy patients will die.
I have only this word to give:
Wonder, and find out why
poem by Ogden Nash
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He who studies medicine without books sails an uncharted sea, but he who studies medicine without patients does not go to sea at all.
quote by William Osler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The 2 million people who work in the NHS and social care are also themselves patients and users. I know they all want to treat patients and users the way they and their families would want to be treated and that is the purpose of our reforms.
quote by Patricia Hewitt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So it's been a slow process and it's taken some patience. That's why patients are called patients I think - patience is required.
quote by Bowie Kuhn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We have really good data that show when you take patients and you really inform them about their choices, patients make more frugal choices. They pick more efficient choices than the health care system does.
quote by Donald Berwick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Advice to Doctors
No patient’s mine; no patient remains yours;
The patient comes and goes from Doc to Doc;
If he improves, we simply then rejoice,
Though God’s the key to the diagnostic-lock!
All patients ail and expect some relief;
A doctor’s duty is to help him out;
All patients speak the truth; Time is the thief;
To use his knowledge best, all Doctors ought.
Fleece not the poor; cheat not the ones who’re sick;
God is the Healer prime; He uses us;
Off not life’s candle-flame with intact wick;
The Doctor shirking work invites God’s curse!
Lose not Ethics; lose not your morals, Doc!
Like patients, Doctors are part of God’s flock.
8-28-2002
poem by John Celes
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They Smile
They come to work in pastel uniforms,
And, greet their patients with their brightest smile.
They meet and know each patient by his name.
They bring to this most cheerless place a warmth
Of friendliness, despite the bone-cold fear
That floods the room.
Reclining chairs surround, the space where
Patients sit as chemo drips through needle-fangs,
From snake-like tubes that wind around the tree stands
By their sides.
And, yet, despite the anger, pain and fright displayed
Upon the faces of the patients, young and old,
The nurses smile while consciously
Aware that death stands shadow-dim behind each chair,
As cancer does its devil-dance,
While Hope and Faith stand ever by.
poem by Lynn W. Petty
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Sonnet: The Patient Poor!
The smiles of gratitude on being healed,
That lights the face of patients very poor,
Gives satisfaction more than covers sealed
From patients wearing shoes high-heeled and fur!
The etiquette of villagers unread,
Surpasses that of urban men ‘degreed’,
Well-dressed in foreign cars, overly fed,
With haughty laughter, showing off their greed!
Oh, what a lovely heart, the poor man has!
His humble voice and stance can lure the Doc;
Diseases strike more poor bodies; Alas,
For them, the health-providers scarcely talk!
The coins of love that patients poor empty
Are worth more weight in gold than dollars free!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-1-2006
poem by John Celes
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My Clinic
My clinic is a ‘church’ in which I pray;
Not many patients flock in anyway;
Some rosaries I manage to well say;
This keeps both devils and my foes away.
The ones that come are poorer than they seem;
‘The rich in cars come only in my dream.’
Most patients brush their teeth with only neem;
My words of solace make their faces gleam.
So, can I fleece my brethren poor and ill?
Can I then hand them inflated a bill?
Can I charge them for just a sample pill?
They live despite the doctor’s care by ‘will! ’
I long to see more patients but be wise;
I dare not try to anyway entice;
My profession is sacrosanct and nice;
I cannot let it turn into a vice!
The only thing I hate is waste my time;
The other thing I hate’s a rainy clime;
But everyday, I write aplenty rime;
I never mind if I earn just a dime!
I scooter daily not more than a mile;
I feel so happy seeing patients smile;
Becoming rich is not my beloved style;
My heart abounds with joy when poor souls file.
When will my practice pick up? - I don’t know;
To God, my art of healing, I just owe;
Rewards in heaven wait for righteous, oh!
To ways God makes me walk, I say not, ‘No! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-10-2006
poem by John Celes
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Like A Surgeon
I finally made it through med school
Somehow I made it through
Im just an intern
I still make a mistake or two
I was last in my class
Barely passsed at the institute
Now Im trying to avoid, yah Im trying to avoid
A malpractise suit
Hey, like a surgeon
Cuttin for the very first time
Like a surgeon
Organ transplants are my line
Better give me all your gause nurse
This patients fading fast
Complications have set in
Dont know how long hell last
Let me see, that i.v.
Here we go - time to operate
Ill pull his indsides out, pull his insides out
And see what he ate
Like a surgeon, hey
Cuttin for the very first time
Like a surgeon
Heres a waiver for you to sign
Woe, woe, woe
Its a fact - Im a quack
The disgrace of the a.m.a.
cause my patients die, yah my patients die
Before they can pay
Like a surgeon, hey
Cuttin for the very first time
Like a surgeon
Got your kidneys on my mind
Like a surgeon, ooh like a surgeon
When I reach inside
With my scalpel, and my forceps, and retractors
Oh oh, oh oh, woe, oh
Ooh baby, yah
I can hear your heartbeat
For the very last time
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Tribute to Dr. Murison
Success to the good and skilful Dr Murison,
For golden opinions he has won
From his patients one and all,
And from myself, McGonagall.
He is very skilful and void of pride;
He was so to me when at my bedside,
When I turned badly on the 25th of July,
And was ill with inflammation, and like to die.
He told me at once what was ailing me;
He said I had been writing too much poetry,
And from writing poetry I would have to refrain,
Because I was suffering from inflammation on the brain.
And he has been very good to me in my distress,
Good people of Dundee, I honestly confess,
And to all his patients as well as me
Within the Royal city of Dundee.
He is worthy of the public's support,
And to his shop they should resort
To get his advice one and all;
Believe me on him ye ought to call.
He is very affable in temper and a skilful man,
And to cure all his patients he tries all he can;
And I wish him success for many a long day,
For he has saved me from dying, I venture to say;
The kind treatment I received surpasses all
Is the honest confession of McGonagall.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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One of the most appalling comments on our present way of life is that half of all the beds in our hospitals are reserved for patients with nervous and mental troubles, patients who have collapsed under the crushing burden of accumulated yesterdays and fearful tomorrows. Yet a vast majority of those people would be walking the streets today, leading happy, useful lives, if they had only heeded the words of Jesus: "Have no anxiety about the morrow"; or the words of Sir William Osler; "Live in day-tight compartments.
quote by Dale Carnegie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today we have a health insurance industry where the first and foremost goal is to maximize profits for shareholders and CEOs, not to cover patients who have fallen ill or to compensate doctors and hospitals for their services. It is an industry that is increasingly concentrated and where Americans are paying more to receive less.
quote by Diane Feinstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Apache Ii Scale
Medical studies have demonstrated
that most doctors are
overly optimistic
when giving prognostic
information,
that is, they tend to overstate
how long the patient
might
live.
For patients who are critically ill,
particularly those in an intensive care unit,
there are numerical prognostic scoring systems
that are more accurate.
'You still have one week
more to go'
That is the best poem so far you have written.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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08 Hospital - Hospitality
I visited Hospital for a check up on an orthopaedic operation I had a few years ago. This acrostic shows my observations.
H opelessness people straring so blankly
O rthopaedic - brittle bones - broken bones
S miling nurses giving reassurance
P atients - patience - porters - posteriors
In patients - out patients - impatience
T rollies with bodies - scalpels and tea
A nxious wait - X-ray and full body scan
L ets go before they amputate everything!
John Knight - 6 March 2011
poem by John Knight
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Come On Be Brave! ' (By My Great Niece Kitty Cotton 11 yrs)
Doctors rushing everywhere,
Up and down the aisles,
Patients crying, panicking,
‘Are there any rooms to spare! ’
The parents would say.
Nurses rushing everywhere,
In and out of rooms,
Patients crying, panicking,
‘Don’t worry, all our nurses care! ’
The chief doctor would say
Into the staff rooms,
Into the offices,
Doctors crying, panicking
‘Oh come on be brave, it’ll all be over soon! ’
© Kitty Cotton
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Happy World Nurses Day 2012! ' (Advance Wishes from a Doctor)
Nurses are …
The ones who aid the doctors heal,
With tender loving care;
The ones who watch the patients feel
The pain, and help them fare!
The ones who stay bed-side and see
The sufferings of those ill;
The ones who treat the malady
By checking drugs and bill!
The ones who say words of kindness
To allay fear, console;
The ones who bring back happiness
To patients by their role!
The ones who make the beds for sick,
And tuck them off to sleep;
The ones who raise, bring down the wick,
Responding to each beep!
The ones who work the magic full,
And keep the ailing clean;
Those ones bring heaven upon hell,
To sick in earthly scene!
poem by John Celes
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I’m Proud, an Indian Doctor
I’m proud an Indian doctor;
I have a billion lives to save;
In practice, let me not falter;
But with my patients well behave.
’Tis thrilling to serve fellowmen,
Suff’ring from newer disease;
Let me use my fullest ken,
And teach them how to live in peace.
My country is a poor nation;
My brethren need my treatment;
So, let me serve with passion;
And free them from their ailment.
God turned me to be healer great;
And serve my fellowmen ill;
Let me improve patient’s fate;
By using my God-given skill.
I’m proud to serve my brethren;
God will bless me some day, some way;
A Doctor turns earth to heaven-
Some day, my patients will sure say!
poem by John Celes
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I’m so happy to note…
That someone so well known to me,
Who worked quite hard in life for long,
Has found mind’s peace and harmony,
And sings aloud a blissful song!
That someone who deserved limelight,
Has found his golden touch at last,
And has become to patients, ‘Light’,
With his own venture very fast.
That someone who admired much,
For patient teaching of students,
For wisdom, knowledge, skills, talents,
Has found at last, his golden touch.
That one good heart is heart of town,
As cardiac doctor of renown,
And saving hearts that fail to work,
And giving life to ‘dead’ by jerk!
‘I wish you all the best, doctor!
God is the healing True Factor!
Your smiling face, I wish to see,
As patients thank you heartily! ’
Fondly dedicated to Dr. N. Bhaskar, M.D., D.M.,
Cardiologist, CBE
poem by John Celes
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I mean being a writer is like being a psychoanalyst, but you don't get any patients.
quote by Al Alvarez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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