FREE AS A BIRD

By Stephanie Warner

Those unfamiliar with the bird world may be unaware that certain vicious bird species have propagated unchecked and have now invaded other ecosystems to quench their ravenous hunger. One such species—Big Bad Board Buzzards—feed almost exclusively on canarius doctorensis—harmless little birds who sing sweetly. Although there are rules and laws which constrain the predators from excessive canary consumption, the predator population has become too large and hungry to care about things such as statutes, ethics and civil liberties. NO canary is safe any longer.  

And I should know, because I used to be a little bird in a hospital cage. I never thought about flying away, because I thought that all doctor canaries lived in cages. I hopped about, pecking at bird seed and chirping at my little canary colleagues. We typed long notes all day on canary-unfriendly EMRs long after we were supposed to be flying home. We never sang, because only disruptive canaries sing aloud, and because singing attracts canary predators. These scavengers cannot tolerate canary songs; in fact, they cannot abide canaries, period. They much prefer nurse “practitioners” and physician assistants, because these species either cannot sing—or they cannot sing very well.    

One day when I was quietly pecking about without making a peep, and trying very hard to be an inconspicuous  canarius doctorensis, a Big Bad Board Buzzard swooped down out of the sky–without any warning whatsoever–and snatched me from my little cage. But his vicious claws did not close around me tightly enough, and as I fell through his claws, I spread my little wings and flew away to a place where predators could not find me. And now I am as free as a bird, and I sing all day long. And all night, too. And until I draw my last little canary breath, I will sing more loudly than any canary has ever sung. And I hope my colleague canaries will take up the song and prevent the extinction of our species.   

Canary Song No. 1 “ Beware of Big Bad Board Buzzards” 

If Board Buzzards tried to eat me, then NO canary is safe. Because I am a cautious canary who has always deliberately flown beneath the radar. When that rogue Buzzard swooped down on me out of a clear blue sky on a lovely May day in 2018, I had been a successful physician for 28 years. I was board certified and current with maintenance of certification requirements. I had no history of psychiatric  problems or substance abuse. I had never been formally investigated by a board or any agency. I had no criminal record, and I do not even remember the last time I received a traffic ticket. I had no social media profile, nor did I advocate any medical opinions that could not be described as mainstream.  

Nevertheless, a birdbrained doctor I did not know told the Big Bad Board Buzzards such vicious lies, that all the Buzzards and even some of my canary colleagues thought I was either guilty or had somehow antagonized him. My protests that I did not know him—that I would not even recognize him in a perp lineup—were regarded as less than credible. I was thus doubly victimized by my inability to explain why the perpetrator had chosen to victimize me! 

The traitor bird claimed that I had a chronic benzodiazepine and a chronic opioid problem as well as a  substance induced mood disorder, which caused the Big Bad Board Buzzards to salivate uncontrollably in anticipation of a canary feast. They were too ravenous to be objective or even to follow the laws that regulate the hunting of canaries.  In spite of a preponderance of exculpatory evidence during the “investigative phase,” the board NOT ONLY proceeded against me, BUT ALSO deprived me of my livelihood by declaring “emergency action” against my license. The Board Buzzards further ignored state statutes giving me the legal right to attend such a meeting; indeed they did not communicate with me at all. They even flagrantly violated the law requiring confidentiality of proceedings prior to final determination. And they did all this under the watchful eyes of the  Board Counsel, a  raptor who was supposed to have kept her eagle eyes on the Buzzards to ensure that all canary murders conformed to legal parameters. In the absence of outside regulation those Big Bad Board Buzzards  can prey on any little canary they want, any time they want, EVEN if the little canary is just pecking away in the dirt and not bothering anyone at all—EVEN if the canary is not singing the songs all predators hate.   

I duly flew through all the hoops recommended my attorneys. I underwent an evaluation by the state Physicians Health Program (PHP) which was quite comprehensive. The avian addiction specialist concluded that there were NO past or present “substance use” problems—meaning that the Buzzards had no grounds to devour me. Even though the PHP is the organization charged with the evaluation and monitoring of canaries with  substance abuse problems, the Buzzards were so eager for a canary morsel that they claimed that the PHP  “must have missed something.”  I sang to my colleagues to appeal to the Buzzards to spare my life, and even though they risked personal dangers by attracting the raptors’ attention, more than a  dozen wrote to those Buzzards to refute their specious allegations. I spent hundreds of hours responding to those Buzzards and their Complaints. I underwent a neurological consult to prove that I was  not a bird brain and was “cognitively fit to practice medicine.” But the Vultures were SO hungry that they tossed legalities and good sense to the wind; they were too starved to think about anything but eating me alive and spitting my little bones out.  

The Buzzards subpoenaed medical records, pharmacy records, called former supervisors, and still could not find any evidence. Every subpoena and inquiry effectively notified the recipient that I was a “bad canary,” and this served their purpose of condemning me by insinuation without any evidence. I was forced to exhaust my savings to pay for legal counsel, unnecessary “evaluations” and the usual bills. I even had to liquidate retirement assets, because I had no income. I cried, and hopped frantically up and down and ruffled my little feathered wings in anguish, despair and total panic. Those Board Buzzards dismantled my life piece by piece–forcing me to watch helplessly as they stripped me of dignity, destroyed my personal and professional reputation, and robbed me of my savings and retirement income. I regretted the day that I had been hatched into this World! 

Four months after they declared “emergency action” against my license, those vultures were so desperate to find an excuse to eat me alive that they voted not to consider all the exculpatory evidence until I underwent  a 3-day “evaluation” at a Center for Bad Canaries, which was a humiliating and thoroughly terrorizing experience. I had to fly over 1,000 miles and across many state lines to find the Center for Bad Canaries, where they demanded most of my few remaining seeds for the privilege. Fortunately, as miserable as the experience was, those bloodhounds sniffed out the truth, and three months later their report shocked the Buzzards and the bird world: there was NO evidence that would allow the Board Buzzards to legally gobble me up. No signs of mental illness, dementia or substance abuse or even avian flu. NADA. I wish I could have seen the looks on those predators’ faces when they read that report, which exonerated me and indicted them. The report specifically referred to  the “emotional trauma” I had sustained as a result of the “lengthy board proceedings.” The Board’s elite evaluators condemned them, not me!  

Eight months or so after snatching me from my little cage, the Big Bad Board Buzzards dismissed all charges. Although they had no canary for dinner, those Buzzards cackled with evil glee, because they knew that they had ensured my demise by robbing me of the seeds I needed to survive the coming winter.  They further knew that no little cage administrator would welcome a canary that even Buzzards would not eat. And so the Buzzards turned their loss into a celebration. They sat at the Board table—greedily shoving more Danish into their caws and washing the pastries down with stale coffee—and congratulated each other for breaking another canary heart, for destroying the financial means of another canary family, and  for striking fear into other canaries who would surely learn how they had unlawfully gotten away with the annihilation of another canary—just because they could. No canary should every doubt that Board Buzzards are heartless scavengers who answer to no higher bird authority. 

And although I know that I shall surely starve without any bird seed or be attacked by a larger bird without the protection of my cage, the exhilaration of freedom pushes such thoughts right out of my little birdie head. Even if I sing alone, I will sing anyway, just because I can. And before I am done, Buzzards will be a joke in bird circles. 

Signed,
 A canary who found her voice and rediscovered her wings.