Where is the music

Wonder sometimes- and feel as to why I wonder just sometimes- where do the violin strings playing tequila mockingbird snap off when I am at a mundane brainless moment and want to push a patient away because I feel hungry and its lunch time, when I see a fly infested vagabond lying to nature's mercy at the gates of Sassoon and wonder when and howhe will die.
Wither the purity ?No it aint purity...its just plain sanity.Not giving a person his honor in illness, when he is dependent on another person who is all he can trust at that time is insane.
Why is getting into a Ruby Hall Clinic and a plush Renault more a priority than putting Harrison into common sense practical implementation. Why isn't an Ipod playing songbird in blithe bass tones when I have to say that "if he isnt getting an MR let him f**k off...I cant treat him."

I have learnt the formulae and algorithms...I need to fit every dysfunctional human body I see into a heuristic pattern I know to recognize and remedy...if it dosent fit, I feel uncomfortable. My discomfort is channeled into venting my frustration onto patient, relative, hospital, staff nurses, juniors.Thats noise break, thats disharmony.Adaptive learning is something we never want to venture into. Because everything has to be standardised, dovetailed to protocol- the issues are legal many times..but also to ensure conformity in data,standard of care. But again in an attempt to homogenise method of care, the individual patient is lost in the numbers.A note is lost in the harsh background noise of a relentless drum.
We have our lives.True. We have our aspirations.Also fair. But we also have our moments of inspiration. Pity these moments flee us the moment the Ipod is off our ears and the harsh screech of the ward sister wakes us out of our slumber...there are lines to be put and blood to be drawn, a miserable JR to admonish,a prissy Unit head to please, a girlfriend to humor...what a frickin life!!

A wooden flute sends melodious notes wafting through the squalor of the overcrowded wards...it harmonises dissonant emotions -the helplessness of the ill, the frustration of the resident, the passivity of the doctor, the angst of the baba staff,the apathetic- abulic punctiliousness of the nurses and gives new cognate sense to the whole process of care giving as it were.

Wither the flautist!!?!!
Wither the exclamation ....are we to endure with question marks and commas and full stops?

To stretch a boner:
1)"When you breathe in : you INSPIRE, when you dont: you EXPIRE".
2)And to stretch the analogy:
" Life is not the number of breaths you take but the moments that take your breath away"

So stretch, take a deep breath, imagine nights in white satin playing into your ears and INSPIRE .....