R&B showed up for a quick visit.  Dogs alerted us.  Sal went out on the porch and there they were waving from the water in their kayaks.

“Just dropped by to say goodbye.  We’re leaving for the winter!”

Sal grabbed a jacket and we went down to the beach to pass some time.  Then they headed off.

Our visitors come by kayak!  It’s November 14.  It’s cold out there. 

That’s a bit different. 

Actually, winter is very different.  I know that you know that but what I mean is this – we can and do live outdoors most of the year.  Sally even more than me.  But when it gets cold, we don’t.  Not so much.  More time is spent indoors and that’s different in and of itself.

But more than that, of course, is that we do different things.  We think different thoughts.  And, for three out of four years, we actually leave and go away.  Out here, winter is not a wonderland.  Neither is it something you ignore, get in the car and go to the office and carry on regardless.  Out here, winter means changing.  It means a lot of changing.

Think of it like a bear does.  A bear is active for 9 or 10 months of the year.  Then they hibernate.  It’s not, in the least, like the rest of the year.  It’s very different.

And so it is with us, too.

Moving on……………..

I went to see a doctor today.  I am thinking of changing.  My ‘old’ doctor is OK but, really, his practice is a factory.  He is a machine.  Slam, bam, prescribe and move on.  Worse, my doctor hired the spawn of Nazis for office staff.  And then he moved into a window-less mini-warehouse-like catacomb-of-closets pretending to be examination rooms.  It’s like a horror movie. 

And he is in Campbell River.

This new doctor is on the island next door.

The new doc is a woman.  Not quite my age but no spring chicken.  She’s got an ‘attitude’ but it’s mostly a helpful one.  I thought I’d test her out.

“Well, it’s our first meeting and you already have one strike for and one against.” 

“What?”

“The room is nice.  A window,  some space.  Everything clean.  It’s good.  I like that.  But here’s the deal.  If a doctor has an emergency or even a real good reason to run late, I am OK with that.  But if I am the first patient of the day and I am on time, I think it reasonable to expect the doctor to be on time, too.  Don’t you?”

“Well, yes………………but……..”

“And another thing.  I don’t expect special treatment because I live on a remote island but I also don’t think it is special treatment to be able to communicate by e-mail, ya know?  It’s not like I am going to spam you or send you jokes.  It is just a good way to communicate.  Waddya think?”

“I agree.”  And she handed me her e-mail address.  So far, so good.

“Now, she said, warming to her challenge, any pre-existing conditions?”

“Gazillions.  Most of it old age-related.  Tubes not tubing.  That sort of thing.  But what you really mean is………….”

“Had a heart attack?”

You have to understand that I am a bit sensitive about this.  When I started with the other doctor, the first words out of his mouth when he walked into the room – even before ‘hello’ –  was, “Oh!  Chest pains?”

“No! I replied at the time, Chest feels fine.  I am fine!  Hell, man, I can lift you up and hold you over my head!”

I was exaggerating a bit but he is not a large man.  I could certainly have wrestled him and me into a stupid position.  At that moment, however, I was tempted to give it a go and fling him over my head.

He withdrew from his ready-to-resucitate position and said, “Unh, no thanks.  No proof needed.”

But I am not so sure that our relationship ever really recovered. That is part of the reason why I was interviewing Dr. Nota S. Chicken.

And she was starting out the same way!

I was going to grab my chest and draw a deep breath in but I decided to save that little joke for some other time.

“No.  No heart attack.  But it is just a matter of time, isn’t it?  I mean, I look like I am having one when I am just sitting here, right?  I mean, why not just gimme some oxygen right now just to be on the safe side?  Got any of them ‘lectric paddles handy?  Let’s give ér a go.  Waddya say?”

“Oh!  Well…….that’s………..good…………….”

I think my face was getting red. But I had to admit…………

“Well, OK.  Now that you mention it.  Everyone on my mother’s side died of heart attacks in their fifties.  My mom made it to 64.  My age now.  Dad died from complications that included a heart attack.  I think we both know where this going.”

Now would have been a good time for the chest grab joke.

“Well, she said,  that’s good.  I’ll just fill this prescription and we’ll see you again some time.” And she left.

I dunno.  A woman doctor?  I just didn’t feel the love, ya know?