My darling little doctor hails from India but she went to med school in Australian state of Tasmania. She has a lilting voice formed far across the sea and she uses it to soothe depressed SOBs like me. She is a woman who has patience, gives care to folks in need, and as patients go few were needier than me. (Sorry, Mom!) It was I who groveled down upon her floor, convinced I had grave problem for which she tried to reassure. When I was down I was very down, low as a man can go, there was no lifting of my spirit, no easing of sorrow. But now I’m feeling better I reside upon cloud number ten. (Cloud nine is just for sissies who think that happiness won’t end.)
I told my doc my symptoms and she ran some tests, EKG for my heart when palpitations did persist. She would not call me hypochondriac, at least not to my face, but of organic issues she found nary a trace. She is not condescending, we both laugh at my expense, because visiting the doctor can lead to bills rather immense. At her urging cardiologist catheterized my heart he too found no problem and I know I wasn’t smart. I became reassured that all my pains were just in my head, that I’m healthy as a horse and unlikely to drop dead. Funny thing is that this knowledge was a stepping stone toward unseating goblin depression that ruled my hearth and home.
Now, here I stand a better man than I was yester month; it seems I finally escaped from that awful labyrinth. Glad to say depression is behind me, at least for today, and that the colors of my tomorrows are no longer gray. Grant I’m not back in fighting condition, but at least I got esprit de corps; grateful I’ve shown hobgoblin of depression to the exit door. So, brethren that are suffering down on bleeding knees, I know the troughs are deadly but I pray you heed my pleas. Don’t throw in the towel, please stand fast and be tough, God knows it isn’t easy, I’m just saying it’s worth it. There will be another sunrise even though you can’t see the light and I swear to you there’s morning at end of longest night.