Diagnosis

 

You know the drill. You don’t feel good. You go to the doctor. The doctor takes some liquids then asks some questions. The doctor has some test done. The doctor writes down the results, and then walks up to you with the diagnosis.

Like any investigation, these are the judge’s verdicts.

 You might want to have a second opinion or find another judge, but the answer is called the diagnosis.

When you go to school and you listen and learn and take the test, your grade is your diagnosis. When you work hard and the end of the year comes around, your review is your diagnosis. When you hand out a ring and ask the question, the answer is your diagnosis.

If you medical diagnosis is ‘this’ is what is your problem and ‘this’ is what you have to do to get rid of your problem, might be a relief or a burden. If the cure is to take a few pills, then it is not so bad.

If the diagnosis is life threatening, even if there is a pill or potion that might delay the inevitable outcome, the thought will still be there.

You are going to die.

In this time when the wind carries little invisible particles we might breathe in that could cause us to stop breathing, then we should be aware of what the doctor says?

If…. the diagnosis is you are completely well and fit and will live a thousand year, do you feel any better?

Do you shake the doctor’s hand and walk outside and look up and enjoy the clouds and the birds singing and be glad you are alive, for another day?

They don’t tell you in the birthing manual that live is finite. No medical pinprick or blood sample or digital scan can give you a timeline.

 

 

What’s Up Doc?