Betsy Robin Schwartz

Empathy is a lie

when veins are full of heparin

and valium.

The patient's true pain is just fantasy

to the medical staff

They opened this chest with carpenter's tools

exposing organs to cool white fluorescence

in the virgin bright of the theater of

operations.

They never mentioned the blood or

the zip-him-up wires-

not permanent in case of reentry.

The patient hears in everdreams

the sound of surgeons'

dispassionate jargon

like TV chatter.

Then recovery-or so they call it.

Then intensive care-and so it should be.

The always, always onus of complications.

You're not out of danger, says a smart patient,

until you're out of the hospital.

Even so, sometimes vestiges of pain recur when it rains.