Wednesday, January 28, 2026
Dragonflies of Medicine
Physicians, doctors, remind me
of dragonflies. Large heads--
metaphorically. Complicated
engineering, motions fluid
and not. Often irridescent--
in self-regard. The main thing
is they never land for long. In
a room and out. Perched some
distance from the bedside,
then gone. Visible in a doorway--
then vanished. Flashing in,
flashing out, caught by bright
lights, but only for a snapshot.
It's as if they regard the patient--
the one who waits for everything--
as a potential predator. It's as if
physicians play a game of tag.
Tag, you're it, patient. You are
always It, not me.
of dragonflies. Large heads--
metaphorically. Complicated
engineering, motions fluid
and not. Often irridescent--
in self-regard. The main thing
is they never land for long. In
a room and out. Perched some
distance from the bedside,
then gone. Visible in a doorway--
then vanished. Flashing in,
flashing out, caught by bright
lights, but only for a snapshot.
It's as if they regard the patient--
the one who waits for everything--
as a potential predator. It's as if
physicians play a game of tag.
Tag, you're it, patient. You are
always It, not me.
hans ostrom 2026
Tuesday, January 27, 2026
Monday, January 26, 2026
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