So after all it was a cyst that had somehow developed a decade earlier subcutaneously on my abdominal wall.  And it was that cyst that, for the third time during that period manifested its presence by becoming infected, swelling to alarming proportions (relatively speaking) and causing this latest little episode for which I had little option but to pursue medical care. 

The morning after my failed attempt to have the resulting abscess drained at the Urgent Care Centre when my personal physician who "doesn't do that" referred me to the centre with an inadequate referral protocol, I appeared there again.  I arrived at eleven in the morning, departed after three in the afternoon.  When I arrived the waiting room was only half-full; a half-hour later it was teeming with people all awaiting their turn to be called.  Oddly enough I realized that there were few older people present, most were considerably younger, and some quite young, people in their 20s, teens, children.

When eventually my number came up the receptionist went in search of the fax that had twice been requested of my doctor's office, and there was nothing.  She looked at the scribbled referral on the prescription form my doctor had handed to me the day before and said, unlike her predecessor of yesterday that there was no reason it couldn't be accepted as a proper referral, and a doctor she conferred with concurred.

Duly registered for treatment, I sat again in the waiting room for another hour.  When the sole nurse on duty that day (short-handed they were) called my name she directed me to an examining room saying she would return shortly.  'Shortly', unfortunately turned out to be another two-thirds of an hour.  After her brief examination including taking my temperature, she left, apologizing for the long wait, telling me that the doctor would be with me 'shortly'.

'Shortly' once again became a relative and understated term, but once he did arrive, the doctor answered all my questions good-naturedly as he set about examining then draining the abscess.  A common enough occurrence he said, that people as they aged particularly would develop a cyst, and the cyst would become periodically inflamed then infected as mine was.  He recommended I have it surgically removed, some months hence.

During our conversation he revealed that he was 72 years of age.  A genial, somewhat corpulent, and obviously technically competent physician, continuing to use his brains and the expertise he had acquired over the years satisfied his needs.  He mentioned as well that one of his colleagues at the clinic was 78 years old.  So much for the debilitation of old age in those who decline the presumed excesses of the aging process, when they are able to.

He cleaned up the area and packed it, and informed me I would have to return in two days' time to have the packing removed, the wound assessed as to whether a fresh packing would be required, or not.  And then I was released to the fresh air, my waiting husband and our little dog, all of us anxious to set out on our regular ravine perambulation.