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Dear Peter,
 
Thanks for the 'Inner Strength' and for other recent occasions for snorting mirthfully into my coffee, making my keyboard yet more obscure.  How liitle I appreciated the value of touch typing classes at school.  Thought I'd offer my own personal joke - I was christened Fanny and am an English Gynaecologist.  I could emigrate to the US and become a colorectal surgeon, but I might get lost in the translation.
 
On the subject of titles - I quite enjoyed being 'Dr' for a while.  Don't know about America and Canada, but in the UK, female surgeons become 'Miss' again.  Now living in small town Wales, I enjoy even more the ill-disguised horror when Miss Rushworth brings her two children along.  It annoys my husband no end.
 
Your post:
I find the idea of what nursing/doctoring can do for the understanding of poetry
of more interest than what poetry has done for/to doctoring/nursing.
 
I'm tempted to be a bit flip and say when I saw a ureter vermiculate this morning, it was poetry in motion (it's a bit of tubing gynaecologists dread accidentally chopping en passant if not en pissant).  More correctly, I recognised, with great relief and pleasure, an intact and functional piece of anatomy.  It is, I think, the emotion that defines poetry, emotion is so poorly expressed by dictionary definitions, can be described in prose, but is most subtly induced by and distilled in poetry.  To the extent that nurses and doctors care about their patients, witness and empathise with suffering, it might be said that they have a head start in understanding poetry that speaks of pain.
 
'We appreciate this better
In the agony of others, nearly experienced,
Involving ourselves, than in our own.
For our own past is covered by the currents of action,
But the torment of others remains an experience
Unqualified, unworn by subsequent attrition.'
 
Maybe so, but this is not unique to medicine.  I find my own pain hurts me more, and what I value most in Eliot is what resonates with my own experience and lends me some depth of understanding of feelings obscure to me, defying the dictionary.  Some lines just apply by happy coincidence - the theatres have a fabulous view over the coast.
 
'Dawn points, and another day
Prepares for heat and silence.  Out at sea the dawn wind
Wrinkles and slides.  I am here
Or there, or elsewhere.  In my beginning.'
 
A very settling start to any operating list.
 
Cheers
Oh, and by the way, do call me Fran.