It's said that Canadians love their universal health care system. We certainly do. It's been there for us when we needed it, and always delivered. We didn't call upon it often, mind, but when we did hospital and medical personnel delivered handsomely, we trusted them as professionals of the highest calibre and had no reason ever to think otherwise.

Things have certainly changed in the past three years. But then, health delivery in its most basic function changed dramatically long before the advent of a novel pathogen that coursed through the world community spreading havoc, illness and death everywhere, upending routine and everything we thought of as normal in our social, business and private lives.

We personally experienced a rude awakening when our family physician of forty years retired. We had every reason to fully appreciate his dedication to administering care to the best of his ability throughout his long career. We liked him and gave him our unalloyed trust. He was a kind and gentle man, interested in all his patients and determined to give them all the care he felt they deserved from him.

We've had over a decade of experiencing a new crop of medical practitioners. We'd give them all a failing grade. They're supposed to be generalists administering health care at the most basic level. They've become diarists, busy on a computer instead of looking at you, registering everything on a computerized patient chart. It isn't medicine they administer, but prescriptions and referrals to specialists.

No qualms about most of the specialists; they know their field and dedicate themselves to performing as specialists aiming for the best of all possible outcomes. Now, however, in the wake of the SARS-CoV-2 pathogen cutting a swath through normalcy, we saw family physicians close down their offices, and restrict themselves to 'distanced' appointments. Where once doctors said they had to see a patient in person to prescribe treatment, now it's just fine to do so remotely. 

Where once in an emergency you could be shoehorned into a brief afternoon appointment, you now wait, and wait and wait. If  you're referred onward you wait even longer; not days or weeks, but months creeping toward a year. Guess we're fortunate not to have required the attention of the medical field in the past three years. But what if we did? The prospect is dismal; doctors are in short supply, hospitals are packed, nurses and technicians are short-staffed and fatigued. Good luck.

So we are among the fortunate and hope it will stay that way, while also hoping the nation's universal access to quality health care can correct itself. Although this country rates among the highest health care spenders in the OECD, actually delivering top-notch health care has hit a road block. 

We shove those thoughts to the back of our minds. We think about our relatives and those we care so deeply about and shudder at the thought that the system is gasping for air. And then we decide to get some fresh air ourselves for the day. The rain has finally stopped and we're faced with two little puppies who are urgently in need of quality time outdoors; our special formula for well-being.

There are still dark clouds scudding overhead. Leave now, or wait? It's humid, though nowhere near as hot as yesterday. We decide on rain jackets and tuck theirs into our pockets, and off we go. The garden has brightened up since the rain, though it shouldn't have been thirsty. The pots were watered yesterday and so was the newgrown lawn. But it's the rain all vegetation responds to.

We're in such a hurry to leave before rain starts up again that Irving forgets his treat bag. Go back for it? Hmm, we'll take the chance we won't come across the usual suspects, planning a shorter circuit to avoid promising rain. Jackie and Jillie still expect their treats. Telling them 'sorry' just doesn't cut it, nor does the promise of an extra large salad on our return. But it's when we are hailed by two sets of excited dogs galloping toward Irving, their Cookie Man, that we feel really bad. 

Sorry, chaps. See you tomorrow. Double rations of cookie, then!