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JAMA. 2007;298(23):2716.

	Since this article does not have an abstract, we have provided the first 121 words of the full text and any section headings.

Chest shaved, electrodes hooked up,
I'm on the treadmill, walking fast,
my heart is functioning well,
beep, beep, beep. . . on an uphill slope:

there are sugar balances that need
to be maintained, food digested,
enzyme levels shifting,
phalanxes of white blood cells
attacking at the first sign

of bacteria: it leaves me
wondering who's in charge?
even as my doctor, monitoring
me, while I start to sweat

on the moving track, says
I'm doing OK. Billions of people
on earth. And yet how
or why—I never said I do at the start—
did I end up in a body,

that doesn't feel at all
like me; but rather detached, ticking—
partner to what strange tyranny
that makes us one?

Mel Belin
Arlington, Virginia

Poetry and Medicine Section Editor: Charlene Breedlove, Associate Editor. Poems may be submitted to jamapoems@jama-archives.org.