Sweet Practiser, Thy Physic I Will Try

subtitle   when ‘physician heal thyself’ doesn’t work

So, this is the Emergency Department, and I’m the King of the Castle and you’re looming booming too close, what are you saying, OK I’ll stop now. Who is this girl, touches and whispers, and I’m awake. Sort of. You’re the dirty rascal but it’s looming touch, get a grip, who is this girl, no need for her to lift her Agnodician skirt to reveal her gender, it’s OK, girl, “hurts” but I’m brave Mummy. Drift off.

The Ward is Another place, I think, smells different, Anthemusian girl now, she touches my forehead and I can walk the moon, thinks, yep, I can find a reference on that, cite it, woman’s touch makes men walk on the moon. Let’s be sensible. He sits up and shouts “Levav and Argo demonstrate minimal physical contact by a female but not a male increases risk-taking”. He and I strain at the ropes, those beautiful and dangerous Sirens. The moon, doesn’t take much, you know, just a touch.

Operating Room oh Who is this dank dormitory with pipes and tubes and bottles and a man with a sharp knife. Out of a classroom of concerned citizens, Helena sidles up. Hi there. Are you ready, King of the Castle? She smiles, another Hellenic smile from Helena, another touch, I think you’re the dirty rascal but all I can mutter is “Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try”

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