A Lament for P Dog

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Where oh where has my little dog gone; oh where oh where can he be?

With his ears cut short and his tail cut long

Oh where oh where can he be?

Children’s song by Septimus Winner (1827 – 1902)


Where O where has P Dog* gone,

Where, O where can it be,

With no ears turned on

My doc can’t talk with me.


With eyes on a laptop screen

And hands confined to its keys,

I’m cold, untouched and unseen

paper gown’d at 70 degrees.


My provider’s gloves are thick and blue,

We avoid each other’s infections

I find that considerate, don’t you?

Providers too need protctions.


But why, why not , touch me

or ask what’s on my mind?

Hear my lungs, tap my knees

To find what is there to find?


The EMR holds my future and past;

My imaging, scripts, and labs show

All that matters, first to last

All providers need to know,


To fill the blanks on screen,

Clicking each little square

So it can be clearly seen

every code is entered there.,


And kindly saying at the door

“See you next month; we’re done;

Your scripts are filled once more

For problems please call 911!

* Archaic: Physical Diagnosis by touching, feeling, listening, and speaking.

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