[Critique Group 2] Leonard's submission for critique group2 (tuesday)

[Tuchyner5 at aol.com]

Specific questions:
 
Can I make this poem shorter
Is there confusion concerning who is speaking in the dialogue parts.
 
 
 
Going Home  (or The great Escape) 
by 
Leonard Tuchyner 
Only one day after knee replacement, 
but I am longing to go home. 
My wife is willing to take me back, 
but it’s my surgeon’s will that shall be done. 
I am weary of this benign Bastille, 
stuffed with banal commands of, “Thou Shalt  Not’s.” 
Such as, “Sit not on the side of your bed, 
lest thou set off bedside bedlam alarms 
of shrill, hysterical tweets and whistles, 
alerting the eager hospital horde 
of ditsy patients dropping to their dooms. 
Humpty Dumpty’s breaking their great crowns. 
Movement may be hazardous to my health. 
Arms must lie by my sides at all times, 
lest I become gravely disconnected 
from vital fluid dripping through tubes. 
Sleeping is healing, so sleep all I can. 
Ignore the poking, wiping and wrapping. 
Two thirty, time to walk to physical therapy. 
“David,” As expert chief of PT, 
do you  believe I’m ready to leave?” 
“Leonard, I opine it is your time. 
But it is your surgeon Swanson’s call.” 
“Why has she not come to see me yet?” 
“Her normal schedule’s been confounded 
with an emergency surgery. 
But don’t you worry. She’ll see you soon.” 
We meet when I return from PT. 
“Am I okay to leave today, Doc?” 
“This day, it’ll be your therapist’s say.” 
My mind swells with home and freedom visions. 
At four, Swanson returns to my room. 
This remarkable mother of three, 
who appears barely out of her teens, 
and who already bestrides her field, 
currently looks haggard and exhausted, 
her youth now seemingly on the run, 
assures me of my speedy exit. 
The next hospital shift brings no new word. 
My wife and I are trapped in limbo 
by the busy, lonely corridors. 
I am still prisoner to my bed. 
Frustrated and anxious in not knowing, 
I am not unleashed ‘til eight pm. 
Picturing my exhausted doctor, 
functioning on a thin borderline, 
I do not see a super surgeon, 
but an heroic human being, 
fighting fatigue and giving her all. 
And I wonder, with gratitude 
“Where does she find the strength to do it?” 
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