9.7.15

Poem Number Three in a Year (Productivity Points)

Productivity Points

I'm sick of productivity points 
The endless bean counting bastards
Assigned me to hell .…
To take sacred care of dying patients
Expecting me to ask…
how can I love?
How can I serve?  
When the only question corporate gods ask is …
Why are your points so low?
Why aren't you seeing more patients?
Go faster, be better, be more efficient. 

This ain't bout love brother 
this ain't about serving sister
It's about bottom line profits in a supposed nonprofit world. 

I want to love and serve
Not be driven by corporate Machiavellian bean counters 
When their family lies dying in my arms should I rush to judgement and say to them that I have no time?
That my points are lacking?
That my corporate overlords are monitoring my implanted chip and movements across the cratered landscape of insurance ruled medicine?

My heart bleeds for their malfeasance and lack of compassion and cold hearted  practicality. I accuse them 
of NOT serving
of NOT knowing how to love
I'll weep for what we have lost and rage against the dying and loss. 

     David McCullough
     July 9, 2015

1 comment:

Unknown said...

David, that is fantaatic. You should submit this to a nursing journal. These are the thoughts that make an old dog like me proud to know you.