The good doctor

Eleanor, she was the one who prescribed me the valium.
It would last 7 days until I went back to Queensland.

I counted five leftover pills I would leave for mother.

One, three times a day. No point in taking more than needed.

Two for the flight home. Doc gave me thirty, plus the two

At the ED. I was surprised to read on the bottle when

I filled the script that doc's name was Eleanor. 

It reminded me of the poem, The Raven. The words echoed 

In my head, nevermore. 

Imagine your mind twisting into a pot of nonsensical 

Rubbish.

I needed it. I'd learned not to fight these types of thought 

Patterns and make myself comfortable where possible. 

People took me more seriously than I remember they

Use to. The triage nurse, mother and the doc, very easy to

Deal with. And me, usually subdued, though inside it

Was like Johnny panic and the Bible of dreams.

Eleanor, I guess there still are good doctors out there.