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Dominican Hospital
1 April, 2010
Author: Mark Spencer

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I had another dream last night,
A dream I've had for years.
It took me back, into the past,
Back to the pain and tears.

I remember the hospital,
The doctor and the nurse,
They told us Tom's heart was enlarged,
But it was much, much worse.

You see, Tom had no insurance,
And no money to pay.
So Dominican Hospital,
Just sent him on his way.

Ten days later, Tom passed away,
To heaven he returned.
An autopsy would be performed,
And this is what we learned:

My friend's heart wasn't just enlarged,
As the doctor had said;
It was nearly three times normal,
And that's why Tom is dead.

He had congestive heart failure,
And they just sent him home.
That "good" Catholic hospital,
Let my friend die alone.

On the coast of California,
The town of Santa Cruz,
Lies Dominican Hospital,
Where doctors pick and choose.

They will save you, if you can pay,
And many have been cured.
But they will send you off to die,
If you are uninsured.

That really is the bottom line,
There at Dominican.
It is a business, after all;
They love those Benjamins.

How many people have to die,
Before we say no more?
How long will souls, like my friend Tom,
Be someone you ignore?

If decency is bought and sold,
And aid comes at a cost,
If human kind has lost its soul,
Then everything is lost.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Megan (166.205.11.30) -- Thursday, April 1 2010, 04:24 am

This is so sad!

I can't believe they just sent him home like that. This is such a screwed up world! God should just wipe us out and start over!
Wess (66.158.178.182) -- Monday, April 5 2010, 11:18 pm

This reflects a sad truth in America

I broke my wrist a few years back. The company I worked for was in the process of changing providers at the time, and the hospital had some difficulty confirming my coverage. So I waited in the ER reception area for hours, as people who arrived after me, were admitted before me. The Hippocratic Oath is nothing more than a meaningless pretense, contingent upon payment, these days. Great poem Mark, and I'm sorry about the loss of your friend.

Wess
 
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