Though I no longer make a point of getting up early, there was the advantage of seeing the sun rise shortly before 6:00 am this morning. The brilliant dawn highlighted the artistic collage of clouds with a crayon book of colours. An hour later I am seated in a bright waiting area at the Queensway Carleton hospital. My partner is having a scheduled MRI scan.

The QC hospital is among my favourites (after Almonte, Pembroke and Daytona Beach, in that order). I’ve been to Ottawa Civic and Ottawa General as well – and while I have no complaint about the medical service at either of them – the parking is far less favourable than at the other institutions. Parking at Halifax hospital in Florida was not an issue because I was – on two occasions – delivered there in an ambulance and afterwards returned to our ocean resort by cab.

Increasingly our weekly agenda is dotted with medical and similar appointments, an unwelcome reminder of the predominant social involvement of old age. When we have the privilege to address a time for a normal social outing – such as for lunch or coffee – we seldom consider an inhibition until we recall the need to check for conflicting medical appointments.

In spite of the limited scope of my affairs (as I dangerously approach my 8th decade), I am nonetheless bound to acknowledge the comparative freedom of the limitation. When on occasion I glance back upon the earlier record of my daily involvement, it is soon recognizable that much of my day was preoccupied with the gravity of legal research and drafting. Often I felt that I could never escape the necessity of constant assessment and verification. In short, working was hard. No wonder I have never regretted retirement. As much as I enjoyed my work, it was still work. There was no amount of wishful characterization that could encourage me to overlook the unadulterated reality of work.