Doctor blur

I wait in anticipation
for the door, the people
to open.
White sterilizations in clear sinks,
white with despair, or hope - no.
But a blur appears, nearer
to slurs upon time,
patiently sliding in and
out of transcendence,
he plies his history,
deafening from hearing
nothing, or enough
to staccato a voice.

White counts are low,
but hearing? Or is
it to listen, one ear or both?
Hearing loss is bad or positive - but
for me, not you who have
recovered your sense of
Hyppocractic - cursing my health.
Recovering are you?
Remitting remission?
I'm dying you know - for
the few minutes I had
your attention.
As to your recovery:
I know you hope I do,
and then some.

On he goes - bouncing off
ears - a flight to Berlin,
where they don't speak German
and neither do you, so you say
learning French is not easy.
But where were we, you
the last split second while
I guessed at you - sent a
missile flying,  it hit with
percussion, while fellow medical
watches, learns bad society -
skills unbecoming the ear.

It's already too late for
remedies, though the drugs
took hold; I drugged you -
or so it seems your health -
mentally is failing to grasp -
patients or patience, whichever
flowers, buds in one lone
hermetically sealed Lebanese
room - clean, urbane, eating
richly a doctor's fat, where
clearly you have not traveled.
Lost are you? In sitting
with a brilliant social idiot.
Yes, it comes to me -
you are right.

Sometimes it takes chocolate,
eclairs to regain senses, bearings
of flights to Jakarta, for lost
iphones, barely missing the gate,
the agent, the sanity of travel
where few gain remedies, chemo
for thin air, for travel weary,
the Word Cup of angst, a son's
wedding, nearly missed for an
IV embedded in orderlies, soul's
unmatched by protocol, methotrexate
is really at fault hear - lacking
constant clarity of blood pressure
bearings - north by longitude,
latitude that clears a vein.

It's safer for pumping more chemo -
who knew such a nice word could
clarify the destiny of cancer, microbes
or smaller blowing up with steriods
while on a sleepless trip, into the
morning.
I couldn't sleep - no really.
I had none of it - but it's all good
really.
Your levels are lower.
Do you feel better?
Healthy?
Clean?
Vibrant?
Your weight looks good,
but you are walking backwards.
Trying walking forwards for
a mile or two and I'll see
you in a month or two,
or three or six.