All questions are the wrong questions

Of course, he will recommend a transition. That's his job. I bet he makes extra on the transition also.

We know that we would ultimately benefit from making the transition too, but I retire in three years. I have zero interest in learning a new system when I'm comfortable with the old way and highly proficient with the paper records. I know all the patients and their kids. Dr. Johnson delivered all of them. Now some big shot from the city will come in and tell me that we're doing it all wrong. We may not be doing it your way, Mr. Big Shot, but we're doing just fine, thank you.

How much is this going to cost anyway? Is it worth it? To tell you the truth, Dr. Johnson's been slipping lately. He didn't retake his boards. Anything more difficult than a cold we refer to the county seat and their fancy hospital. They have electronic records there. They also have buildings that are three and four stories tall. Is that the way we do it here? Of course not, but it works just fine.

Oh, we'll do it. It's just ... you ever feel like you've been left behind? That's how I feel every day now. I'm just another milk cow that will be put out to pasture.

I think Doc is retiring soon. And this...this will close up. We haven't found anyone to take over the practice. It’s the whole town. The only ones here are the elderly, the kids, and the sad cases who wanted nothing more than to get out...they never did. You see them down at the Sports Page more than you see them at any church. My kids made it. All three went to the university. They don't come back....

My kids never call me, and you ask me about medical records? At least I have my cats.

The Poem’s the Thing

Bacon wrote of Richard the Third

Admiring the roses in the Garden

The Bishop of Ely cultivated

Shakespeare took that line

And dropped it in his play about the man

They had different thoughts on

Plagiarism, and originality back

Then.  Originality and authorship

Weren’t privileged.  I’ve heard it said,

“The Play’s the thing.”

So when I look back and I

Want to tell you I love you,

I find -- The soil relents – rock is carved.

I find --  A universe of meaning. The turn of the lip

I find -- AND THE WORDS AND THE METAPHOR FALLS AWAY

I find the deepness of my love for you has been expressed

Many times before, though not quite right.

And I’m stuck.

Stealing from myself.