From the standpoint of health-care providers I may not be considered a very good patient, and mostly because I have a decided lack of patience. Still, everything went well enough. The pre-surgery part of this morning's enterprise to improve the vision in my right eye drove me crazy. All the personnel -- and there are countless nurses, doctors, assistants at every level, including receptionists at this clinic -- are beyond reproach. They know their profession well, they are all efficient and beyond pleasantly helpful.

 

 

Idleness is what does me in. They're busy doing all the necessary things and the patient sits, docile, expectant and obedient. Hmm, not me, particularly. I don't sit there if I can help it. I tend to roam about, pace back and forth. Unless I can read, and in this particular instance reading isn't on the game plan. Mostly because I was having drops put in my eye, some were antibiotic and some were anaesthetic, but just so many of them, time after time after time, application following application.

 

And in between, the waiting, the interminable waiting. The entire process, we were told, would be roughly of two hours' duration. I wasn't the only one scheduled at the clinic for this morning at various times of the day. There were large easy chairs for pre-surgery patients and others for post-surgery patients. And personnel aplenty to look after all of them. Five or six patients at a time. A kind of medical production line. But it's much worse, much more crowded at the hospital next door and the wait is considerably longer.

 

Finally, the deed was done, and Irving and I given leave to leave. But not without ad-infinitum-repeated admonishing of what I could and should not do. Should not bend so my head faces the ground; so pick things up with face forward (try that tying up boot laces). Not to lift anything in excess of 40 pounds. Rest for the first several days. Do NOT go for a walk in the woods. Wear sunglasses. And should anything go awry, call immediately or take oneself to emergency.

 

Jackie and Jillie scolded us on our return, joyfully leaping all over us. And we had a late, very late and leisurely breakfast. Then I mixed up a bread dough for pizza for dinner despite Irving insisting he had planned to get a commercial product. And then out we went to the ravine. It was 1C and sunny when we left early morning for my rendezvous at the clinic.

 

 

By the time we got set for our ravine walk, it was 8C, little wind and partial sun; in short a glorious day, not to be wasted. And we didn't. Out we went, and as always there's plenty to see in the forest. Jackie and Jillie were delighted to be out romping about hither and yon and greeting a few of their friends. We saw Sumacs with their candles still bright red and intact, and wonder why birds don't eat them in the winter. 

 

 

Not far from the stand of Sumacs we saw a tiny, intact and perfect nest, the size a goldfinch would need, and wonder that it survived the winter elements, firmly lodged in the fork of a stripling Beech branches. It's even likely that a returning goldfinch will re-occupy the nest, given its condition.  We came across some old ravine friends and did some reminiscing. 

Altogether it was a perfect day to be out enjoying the weather on its way to true spring. Thinking how very fortunate we are that we have so few serious concerns that detract from the pleasure and leisure of our lives.