…so I asked Doc. Jim

if I was gonna die,

(my periodic A-fib becoming

more periodical and painful)

and he chuckled.

“We’re all going to die”, he commiserated.

And I knew, since I had phrased it,

it was a stupid question,

my being 75 ‘n so on

and I WAS in a CARDIOLOGISTS exam room,

for Pete’s sake!

That’s why I like Doc. Jim,

(as I call him,

to lighten the gloom

with quasi-familiarity.)

He’s a blunt truth teller,

about himself as much

as to his patients,

and he has no patience

for miracle seekers

who hope to by-pass doom

by circumnavigating the inevitable…

So, I clarified.

“As far as you can tell,

am I in any immediate, imminent

danger of death?”

And he replied,

“Well, Ken, you’re well out of danger

of dying before your time.”

And I said,

“Thanks, pal of mine.”

And he swept me out of his office

with his well worn

bedside-manner-broom,

saying,”See you in six months.”

I left, unsure whether

his perennial, bi-annual

fair-thee-well

was a question

or a party line statement of fact.

But anyhow,

I try not to worry about it,

most

of the time.