Sue Wootton

“Poetry=Medicine”: this was the title of an event with which I was involved as part of last weekend’s 2016 Litcrawl festival in Wellington. We were four poets, plus MC and essayist Paul Stanley-Ward: a doctor, a physiotherapist, a chaplain and a literary scholar.
Medicine can be sweet: a balm, a pharmaceutical concoction that soothes and relaxes, that allows you to temporarily forget your aches and enjoy your life. Medicine can be harsh: strong chemicals, purgative or bitter tonic. Medicine always has side effects, because any attempt to tweak a part always sends ripples through the whole.
Poetry=Medicine? Here are some of the ways we tested that equation.






‘The Faculty of Medicine is undertaking major course revision’. This statement is from a 1995 University of Otago memo. Part of this revision focus was a proposal that the Humanities Division provide a suite of Elective papers for third year medical students. There was already a self-directed option on offer, in which—in consultation with a willing staff member—students had 10 hours a week for five weeks to follow a particular interest. As classes had grown in size, this system had become unwieldy and it was suggested that a more systematic programme of Humanities Electives would broaden students’ appreciation of the art, as well as the science, of medicine.