"Oh, oh", said the doctor shaking his head as he was listening
with a stethoscope to his patient's chest. Actually, the patient
was fine and the doctor's interjection came because he suddenly
remembered that he forgot to call his wife.
However, the patient did not know this. He was suddenly struck
by horrible panic and already heard the rhythmic footsteps of
the approaching death. Anxious and frightened he became
a victim of iatrogenics, or medicine caused illness.
Although his heart was quite normal and he had no organic heart
condition, soon he developed cardiac neurosis.
Due to severe stress reactions he started to experience
palpitations, shortness of breath, exhaustion and chest pain.
Now when he returned to the clinic and reported his symptoms
the doctor examined him but found no real evidence of physical
ailment. Nevertheless, seeing an opportunity to prescribe some
drugs, as well as fearing malpractice, the doctor diagnosed
his patient as suffering from a heart disease.
And thus the man joined the huge iatrogenic camp of millions
of sick people who are basically healthy yet develop
psychosomatic illnesses resulting from patients' anxiety and fear,
from medical incompetence and greed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Writing is good, I like it.