Had to rouse ourselves too early for my appointment at the Riverside Hospital. Our little dogs were somewhat disconcerted at such an early breakfast; Riley performed nicely outside, Button refused to deposit anything. She will doubtless, in our several hours' absence, leave a token of her affectionate regard for us somewhere in the house. It's disconcerting for all of us to have our usual comfortable routine disrupted.

Ample parking room at the hospital campus lot, because of the early hour. By the time we leave, people will have parked anywhere they might shoehorn a vehicle into. It's a wickedly cold morning, with a nasty wind blowing snow everywhere. Traffic was surprisingly good; we arrived with time to spare. Just as well, only one of the two elevators to get up to the sixth floor was in working condition. The hospital was crowded with people and becoming more so by the minute.

The cardiologist was right on time for our appointment. He's a nice, personable, albeit coolly professional man. Not averse to being personal at times, though. Must be nudging 50; about 47 I'd guess. He had looked after me during that emergency admission to the Heart Institute at the General campus in the fall. I trust him. We spoke, he made enquiries about my general state of health. Had a quick look at the blood-pressure readings I've been recording, pronounced himself satisfied with them.

Then set me up for a series of readings on the hospital's machine. And they were sky-high. I wryly mentioned "white-coat syndrome" and he smiled. I described how high they go at my GP's office, how alarmed she had been. He said he wasn't concerned, given the good readings I normally have. Checked my own blood-pressure cuff which we'd brought along, against his; right on.

He wouldn't change any of my medications, protocol to remain as is. Another visit won't be necessary until a full year has passed. My husband finds that very appealing. He considers the visit far more of a success than the last one. That heart murmur that was detected back in the fall was no longer in evidence; an anomaly caused by my low haemoglobin level, caused by the bleeding ulcer, caused by H. Pylori; an unfortunate and debilitating sequence of events.

He responded, to my query, that his own blood-pressure is being kept nicely in check. Watching his salt intake, regular swimming, he said, seems to help immeasurably. As, I imagine, does our own fairly scrupulous attention to a nutritious diet. And our daily vigorous ravine walks in all seasons; all that climbing and descending in the woods.

His son, he said, is preparing to attend Wayne State University for a medical degree. Hoped to get into U. of T., doesn't seem likely at this stage. $50,000 each semester in Detroit, but that's how it goes; he has never, after all, paid taxes in the United States. Entirely fair; his own education was heavily subsidized by the Canadian taxpayer, obtaining his medical degree here. Things are different now.