Between mesas which glow in the golden light,
Down unpaved roads which wind out of sight.
A clinic stands inside the river gorge,
Where hope and healing quietly forge.
He came for more insulin, his words weary,
He ran out last week but winter was dreary.
His blood sugar is high, he knows the truth.
He drove for hours, the road tolled his youth.
He worries he can’t afford his meds,
While leaders debate and turn their heads.
Will he have to choose between his bills and health?
In a place which doesn’t know wellness is wealth.
His physician is new, the third one this year,
Another shuttered clinic – his greatest fear.
He lost healthcare access in the next town,
No life raft left, the less resourced will drown.
All he wants is his next insulin fill,
Someone to call when he’s needing a pill.
Appointment wait times keep getting longer,
He speaks up – they call him a fear monger.
This land is the only home he knows,
Where roots run deep and the red dust blows.
Leaving his community would arrest his soul,
But preventable death looms like an unchecked mole.
He waits each month for the derm clinic to call,
The phone line cuts out- there’s no service at all.
He borrows and begs for the means to travel,
A biopsy before his fears unravel.
He now needs surgery . . . Yet another wait,
Should he hope for a call or just leave the state?
His footsteps falter where he once firmly stood,
Should he leave New Mexico – this time for good?
By Dr. Amani Jambhekar, MD, MBA, Breast Surgical Oncologist, Santa Fe, NM
