Harrison Hot Springs Resort - Leaving day

So sad to be leaving.  I paid the bill.  I was picking up coffee at Margarets Cafe after letting Madigan have his morning pee outside.  I’m in a daze.

 I was dreaming of myself wearing the navy pea jacket I had in my 20’s long before I even thought of being an offshore sailing captain. I was in a basement at a party with my professor friend going through old LP records.  The collection was so important when I was younger.  Laura and I’d watched a John Denver folk song performance on PBS last night.  He’d sung his song Leaving on a Jet Plane made famous by Peter Paul and Mary.  It was a wistful dream.  My professor friend had been concerned when I said , I didn’t care any more.  I’d discussed he lack of justice the night before.  I’ve been reading ‘silk roads’ a review of the civilizations and empires that rose and fell.  The culmination in the people of Ghengis Kahn devoted to cruelty and war after the success of Roman, then Persians , then Muslims.  So much of safety of Europe simply followed the reasoning there were easy richer pickings to the east and south.

I reflect on being a doctor and interested in survivalism and travel, a writer, and explorer. I’ve taken little pleasure in ‘winning’ yet today I’m sad looking back at the losses I experienceed with women who betrayed me and yet in their own eyes ‘won’.  I escaped before being devoured.  The last thing I was ever focussed on was accumulating wealth and power.  Other than the choices of partnerships I made solid decisions and yet I was always devoted to knowing God and the spiritual path.  I can’t have both neccssarily. I also was struck yesterday reading of another who wears the cloak of spirituality but had a priviliedged life of security and wealth.  I guess the dream triggered my sense of aging and time of life, Returning today to work and bills and my procrastination.  It’s been a joy and pleasure to be here.  I love being pain free in the pools’.  I’ve enjoyed the long walks by the lake with Madigan.  

A picture of Gilbert young reminded me of the decade we shared and all the fun in the woods, travelling and here..  Now Madigan is so much a part of life.  He loves Laura and she constantly slips him little treats.  

I’ve paid for the room on my Visa.  I paid it off last week and now will pay it off when I get paid in a couple of weeks.  When I get home I have to collect the bank material for taxes and later this week drop off my box to set in motion that process.  We’re hoping the camper will be ready soon.  The next break will be a weekend in the woods with the camper.  I expect Princeton or back here to the Glencoe campground.   The Desiree is to get off the grid but wifi and services keep us on the grid.  I’ll have the Starlink for future trips but not for weekends.  

Thank you God for this weekend. Thank you for Madigan and Laura. Help me in my work.  Watch over and protect and care for our families . Guide me in your way and help me with my healing

Thank you

Princeton, proto retirement

It’s another do nothing day in the Princeton Municipal RV park by the Silmilkameen River  with Laura and Gilbert.  I don’t know what I would do without Laura. She tells me what to do.  If I’m not serving Gilbert or her I’m fairly lost.  I’m back to reading a western. I’ve been reading Nicholas Wade’s , A troublesome inheritance but keep falling asleep at then end of every chapter. Then I go back to  westerns I stay awake  half the night reading them.

The pattern which I suspect won’t change when I retire is : get up ,walk the dog, make coffee, read facebook, make Laura coffee, talk about the neighbours, scan the weather. The big event is getting Gilbert to take his heart medications.  We’re down to rolling it in roast beef slices and still he spits out the pill at times.  When that’s done I’m exhausted and need more coffee, read more facebook and argue politics with some stranger whose likely retired and doing the same thing. I feel irrelevant. The world happens and I’m moved along by the glacier of elite world politics.   Laura writes a list of things she wants. Today I get to fetch bread ,  milk, cheese and fresh roast beef for the dog.   

Yesterday I rode the KTM motorcycle out to the woods with the new Chiappa Double Badger and the Ruger 30:06. Laura was glad to be rid of me. She does her crosswords, reads, scans facebooks, watches the neighbours and talks with her children and relatives.  She’s content.  I’m generally restless and was talking of climbing Kilimanjaro the other day. She doesn’t even think about such things.  I shot a couple of dozen rounds with the 30:06 180 grain 50 yards getting nice groupings around the bullseye.  Every shot would have killed the big game. Most of my shots over the years have been around 50 yards but I did shoot a deer at 600 yards, and couple of moose at 300 yards. I tried out the Chiappa and despite the red dot sites was all over the place at 50 yards, high, maybe the wind. I moved closer to the 25 yard range where I usually shoot grouse and had  nice groupings. The 20 guage slugs hit in the black and if they were bird shot would have taken out the grouse or rabbit too but I’ve not figured out how to get bulleyes out of that barrel yet.  

I had muskoil mosquito repellant so offended MLM, mosquitoes lives matter.  It was a lovely sunny day. After feeling good about being a straight shooter and some out of season practice I packed up and rode the motorcycle up the logging roads. I spooked a deer and saw a rabbit I took a picture of.  It was a great hard ride on gravel roads with spectacular vistas. I’m often here in the fall so it’s a treat to see it in spring.  It takes a lot of upper body strength handling the deep logging truck grooves here and there.  It also became really chilly in the high mountain country especially as the evening came on . I was just wearing a denim jacket and jeans, thankful for my leather gloves.  I always wear a helmet despite the depreciation on what it protects.

I was glad to get home.  Laura immediately told me the grey tank was full. We’d emptied the tanks in the morning, the camp having a central Sani dump.  This time rather than taking the truck there I brought the honey pot here and unloaded 20 gallons of grey water before taking it back. I bought a bunch of wood too and started a fire.  I put the potatoes on with chopped carrots to boil and after a bit of time took out the steaks and got them going on the barbecue. It’s always a matter of timing still decades of cheffing later.  With sour cream and butter and Coca Cola for drinks it was  a meal made in heaven for the outdoors.  I’ve been enjoying peppermint chocolate bars for dessert and drinking mint tea after dinner. Laura’s enjoyed the Hagen Daz ice cream bars.   Laura went back to reading her Michael Connelly while I returned to Facebook looking for a meaningful political argument with a computer generated political robotron. 

On FB I loved watching Kayleigh make toast of some journalists who really seem to have difficulty holding spit in their mouths.  Being an authority on world politics after driving around the backwoods on a motorcycle I commented on world affairs with aplomb. No doubt the people I talked to, most of us are now old, did even less than I did in their day. Some of my favourite political pundits are avid gardeners. I’ve at least been working till this 2 week decline. I understand how so many people who retire end up in drugs and alcohol, at gambling casinos and brothels with their bottles of viagra.  I depend on Laura with her requests for bread and cheese to keep me sane with purpose.

I remember 2 month vacations in the summer from school and being thankful to return to school because generating ideas of what to do each day on your own can be wearying. If I wasn’t working I’d end up in a library somewhere or have chapters spread out all over the floor and write the great Canadian novel. I’ve several books in outline to do but they are major projects and not something I’ve even considered this 2 week vacation. It’s been literally years since I’ve had 2 weeks of free unscheduled time in a decade or so. Normally I go to a conference for a week and extend it for a week to sight see.  Otherwise I’m on pilgrimage like Ethiopia, Israel, Rome or hunting with actual goals.  Now I’m just relaxing. I once did this on a beach and an ex wife complained that I didn’t ‘get ‘ the idea of ‘sun bathing’.  That’s when I learned to sail off the coast of Yucatan leaving her on the beach.  So much for relaxing.

Fortunately today I’m not nearly as inadequate as I was when younger. I used to have these really steep learning curves like blue water navigation, white water canoeing, black diamond skiing, winter camping. Each of these skills was a whole focussed activity with lots of pressure. Like learning guitar and then playing in a blues band trying to stay sober while people kept handing me shooters.  I’m resting on my laurels now. Last week I assembled the pontoon boat and fished without success but I did it all by the book.  I could have hunted a bear last week but I’m finding myself lazier each year. I have actually been enjoying this doing nothing.  Thankfully Laura has given my day meaning and focus with the request for bread and cheese and milk. I’ll walk the dog of course. Gilbert’s demands are always for ball throwing and walking and napping. He’s insatiable that way. 

Meanwhile I’m praying and loving nature.  

In a few days I’ll be back to being useful and I’ll have to admit this holiday has been recuperative. I don’t have a clue what time it is and I’m not even fretting about a myriad of things I’ve yet to do. I’m pretty sure I can handle riding the motorcycle into town and buying bread. I could go to backwoods on the motorcycle again or go flying fishing. I could go golfing. But I really like the idea of buying bread and cheese and milk for Laura.  It’s deeply meaningful and purposeful.  I have to buy more roast beef for my dog.  

Thank you Lord for this wonderful blank slate of a day and the unscheduled time.  

Sunday, Cariboo Bonanza Resort, Horse Lake BC

We have so enjoyed our stay here. Horse Lake is between Lone Butte and 100 mile House in the Interlake Region of BC.  I’ve had a lot of fun getting my Coronado XT pontoon boat with electric motor out onto the lake. I’ve fished but not caught anything. Everyone else around me did. Rainbows and Kokanee’s. I also bought a Chiappa 22LR /20 gauge over under shot gun, the “Double Badger”. I rode all over on my KTM 690 motorcycle and shot targets. I took some great bird picture with the Nikon Coolpix P1000.  I read some westerns and sci fi novels. I scrolled a lot of FB and added flippant thoughts and political commentary with knee jerk genius contributing to the cacapohonousbedlam of social media.

I felt blessed. I prayed. I was with my beautiful friend Laura who is easy on the spirit. Gilbert the blind cockapoo with injured back, valvular heart disease and congestive heart failure was a true source of joy. He had us up all night coughing and struggling to breathe. We phone Dr. Biernacki at North Road Animal Hospital and he told us is was the higher elevation in the Cariboo that had caused it.  He upped his diuretic furosemide and Gilbert’s been so much better since. Yesterday he was rolling up and down the hill and playing with his ball. We have a family of ducklings join us each day with their mom and he is just fascinated by their chatter.

We’ve had wonderful heart warming fires and beautiful sunsets. Everyone about has been so civilized.The resort attracts  international visitors as well as locals.  Rustic cabins in the uptown section and downtown RV camping where we are. Lots of old people and children.  Serious fishermen.  Not me.  I even sought the advise of the great fishing guru, Bill, to no avail.  I felt Sentimental hooking the worm.  I’d become a vegetarian again but their sentience disturbed me as much when I cut into a zucchini.  Not surprising, given my Irish roots, I loved potatoes here. I barbecued steaks and smokies and pork chops and had them with boiled potatoes and sour cream and mashed potatoes.  I made bacon sandwiches and bacon and eggs. I’ve enjoyed cooking.  I especially love barbecuing.  It’s been a wonderful vacation with that sense of cares dropping away.

I’ve worked some. With wifi and cellular service I’ve been able to connect to the Oscar Remote by computer and talk to patients on the phone. It was rainy some mornings and I was able to be of service and help.  I only thought about Covid and the catastrophes its brought to some people when I was working. Here its seems another world away.  I’ve seen the continuing corruption of Trudeau politics and Communist China and diabolical UN on Facebook but it’s at a distance. The background here is forest, lake and woodsmoke.  

This Adventurer camper has provided all the amenities with sewage hook up , running water connection, propane heat and hot water.  I’ve really enjoyed reading westerns and sci fi, rich allegories of good against bad.  Lots of tribal justice and revenge.  I then meditate on faith, hope and love.  Forgiveness is always a theme. Letting go. I’m older and still bothered by lustful and fearful thoughts and feelings. I struggle to let go of guilt and shame. Acceptance is a key idea today.  I have to remind myself I’ve not stolen millions from hard working Canadians to launder overseas with euphemistic projects, done any abortions or cannibalized my neighbor. On the balance sheet I’ve not been doing too badly especially this week when I’ve mostly been self critical for not getting up early and catching fish or getting up early and writing the great Canadian novel. I’ve been kind of lazy. I have slept in and napped. Walking Gilbert at his pace with his heart condition. I’ve bought a couple of pairs of sandals at Work Wear in 100 mile House.  I’ve bought a half dozen fishing lures that would have worked better if I had my line in the water more. I’ve kind of stagnated.  Lots of coffee and reading.  I’ve enjoyed my little corner here at the table stretching my legs out to rest my feet on the second drawer where I’ve put a cushion to create a self made couch. Laura has done cross words. Gilbert has slept.

I expect this is a kind of proto retirement. It’s a bit like a lot of my older and younger friends do.  I’ve thought about life and accomplishments. I put a decade into training at the highest levels and struggle like a number of colleagues and educated friends seeing others rewarded and given positions not on the basis of work and meritocracy but through cronyism and bullying and frank criminal behavior. I would have liked to loot a bigger tv. I obey the law and feel often like the Last Boy Scout.  When I’m with Laura I’m comfortable and feel a bit like my old man. I’ve followed in his footsteps, camping, hunting, fishing. He left me his love of the wilderness.

When I’m alone though in the city, I think  jazz and traveling to exotic lands.  I miss the theatre and television. I gave up a relatively hedonistic life of fun and pleasure for a life of calling and service.  That unforgettable moment praying in the University of Winnipeg chapel and my friend inviting me to come along and do the MCAT.  I thought Jesus was a healer but I wonder if I’d not have had a better life as a carpenter. I loved Herman Hesse’s Narcissus and Goldmund, discussing that very theme. 

A lot of the time I think of God and want to be closer, to know his will for me and to have the power to carry it out.  I look back on my life these days and it’s been full and exiting. I’ve been truly blessed. I celebrated 23 years of recovery this week and I’m in my late 60’s. For a guy whose been in plane crashes, sailed through hurricanes, been shot at , surrounded by Swat teams, stood up against all manner of social injustice , fought with really bad people and served the highest courts and spent days with Prime Ministers and Generals and Nobel Prize Winners and Olympic Athletes I’ve been truly blessed. God is good all of the time. But I’m never satisfied. I’m always feeling like I’m falling short of what I could be. I don’t want to be crucified like Jesus or his disciples. I’m a wuzz. Part of my reason for liking skirts and hair salons is because I’m old and feel vulnerable as an old man in todays culture and society.  I’m like an enlightened worm. Or a smart ant. I loved the metaphors of St. Francis. 

I don’t feel protected and don’t feel I can rest on my laurels.  I find myself think of Valhalla. I see the old men, the farmers and such, congregating in the MacDonald’s and A&W in the morning and think that may be me soon. I miss my brother Ron and his fish tanks. I miss my father and his fishing.  I’ve not the patience and confidence that they had. The men and women with children seem complete. The grandchildren give them meaning and purpose. I’m here with a dying dog and feeling that I’ve failed. It’s all in the self pity.  I’ve tried my best but been way laid by evil and corrupt bureaucrats and systems. Years of my life I’ve defended myself against lying psychopathic women and men.  I’ve been so disturbed that I’ve been caught in their low life games. I wanted to play the Glass Bead Game not Days in our Life.  There are times I’ve felt I reached for the stars but looking back so much has just been slogging through the mire of human existence. It’s all perspective and I’ve lived in fear and resentment and muddle.  There’s no merit in beating myself up. It’s tied to envy. I judge my insides by others outsides.

Now we’re leaving here. Packing up and moving to a lower elevation for the sake of Gilbert’s heart and lungs.  It’s an unknown destination.  We had booked this week but on a whim and due to the days July 1st came we took another week of vacation. I’ve not known this amount of unscheduled open time in years.  Again I think of this as a what retirement might well be like. Like a summer vacation in school days and each day an open slate. This truck and camper is like a land yacht and I actually enjoy it more than my sailboat, the land appealing more to me with better wifi and hook ups and the culture of Good Sam RV world. My parents loved the RV world and it’s a more appealing lot than the yachting world. I like the motorcycles and quads and all the dogs.  Life is good.  I am very grateful.  Now I must get stowed and on the road. 

Thank you God for another day in paradise. BC is God’s country and the views are just constant eye candy.  Thank you Jesus.  

Journal Entry Thursday

It was a hard start this week.  Monday was a rough Monday.  I thought Sunday was saturday.  I’d been a way the week before and this confused me.  I returned to 2-3 times the work I left and the week I left I had 2-3 x the work to leave.  It’s always been that way.
I remember talking to doctors who simply gave up taking holidays because the work was overwhelming to get away. So many of my rural colleagues can’t get locums.
Some of it too is that I go away for a week and I'm out of the mines, out of the routine, out of the flow.  I have to think about things again that were almost done on autopilot. I made a mistake with a medication yesterday that was just 'stupid', writing a totally different medication down that vaguely 'looked' like another. The pharmacist phoned to ask for clarification and I made the correction but it was essentially like a produce manager giving you a cucumber when you asked for tomato.  I was just renewing the script so it was obvious given the previous record, still. That's the sort of thing that happens and worries me so much with the homungus multiplication of details and paperwork.  In the community I get this more and more with 'parts' errors so common that I'm actually surprised when a store gives me the right one first time.  I remember my friend getting the 'wrong' part on a vacuum cleaner bag 6x.  I remember every single error I've made with medications and prescriptions and I've noted a couple a year more caught by staff, pharmacist or patient. None life threatening but all unnerving. I went years without a single error and now the 'system' holds these errors within the process of prescription renewal and the multiplicity of drugs, pharmacies, specialists.  I miss the days when I saw young patients principally and they were not seeing a dozens specialists and on only the medication I was prescribing and only one pharmacist was involved and I knew him or her as the case was.  I have to accept the stress is overwhelming at times and change whether good or bad increases stress.  A half dozen of my favourite colleagues and referral folk have retired. I didn't realize that most were 70ish. I thought of them as younger but they've closed their practices and no one is there to take their patients over.  I 'm taking a few simply because I admired one colleague and we worked in a similar vein.  Patients constantly tells me everywhere they go the system is functioning like a factory. "I'm only allowed one complaint."  "She only has 5 minutes to see me." "The psychiatrist only saw me the first time and since then it's a nurse or a group.'  The complaints are systemic. I live in fear of the hoards of regulators and police watching the police watching the police and the media watching everyone and no one doing the front line work anymore or those who do so often have no skills or experience.  It's all troubling but surprisingly things go along and most work out.  There is a sense of foreboding in the air. That general sense that something is about to burst.  All the debts and struggles to pay the rent.  Several of my patients are not eating more than one meal. They're on pensions, spent their lives working and now have to go without eating to pay their rent.  Always there's anger.
Then there were the suicides. Early in my career every time I took a month vacation with the university or hospital I’d return to some patient having been turned away by the ER or someone not taking them seriously so they hung themselves or overdosed.  I was devastated because they all sought help elsewhere but it was ‘my fault’ because I ‘abandoned’ them.  I was doing psychoanalytic psychotherapy extensively in those days with borderline personality disorders who’d had multiple suicide attempts and were always suicidal.  Relationship therapy was the basis of there getting better. They’d see me weekly and to their astonishment I’d not beat them up or have sex with them.  All their care givers before me, mother, father, uncles aunts, boyfriends, girlfriends, siblings and even some health care workers had done that. So they just assumed that I would.  They were full of rage.  So when I would be away they’d go to the ER and tell the doctor they were suicidal and really and he/she’d send them home with some ativan, (‘brush them off’), there were ‘no beds’.  This is a real reason , a real medical reason, for an admission.  I can still feel my anger at those days.  It happened each year and I was afraid while I was away, wondering if my patients would get care. The dynamics of these suicides were mixed in hate/fear and full of ‘transference’ but in the end my ‘counter transference’ was simply that I chose to take 2 week vacations at most. Nobody killed themselves when I was away only for 10 days or 2 weeks.  There have been exceptions. I was sailing for a month back from Hawaii with a 3 week window planned only to have the mast break but by then I wasn’t doing mostly psychoanalytic therapy and patients were a really mixed bag with mostly drugs and alcohol, ptsd, somatic issues and head injuries.  Most services were ‘enabling’ borderlines or having passive aggressively written them off so I wasn’t doing in depth therapy. I liked that the borderlines I treated back then went on to be rich famous leaders and success stories.  I always felt that craziness was just going in the wrong direction and if you could turn it around the person would be going as fast in the right direction.
Now I’m working with a lot of other doctors and less alone but still there are no back up resources.  The advantage now is that there’s coverage at the gp level or walk in clinic level.  Then the cell phone has made all the difference. I’ve had calls most days while I’ve been away and that seems to be enough for my chronically suicidal patients.  No one has killed themselves in years while I’ve been away for years. Thank you  Jesus.
All weeks been a little sluggish but that’s mostly been the weather. I’ve had a whole lot of work and been exhausted at the end of the day. I suspect that’s aging. I ordered a pizza and simply watched TV I felt so drained. Went for a walk with Gilbert and a friend.
Was really thankful Thursday had arrived. Wednesday the ‘hump’.
I’m looking forward to the weekend.
Hate being inside with the sunshine, now that it’s returned. Fear that I need to get every ray to bolster me for the dark and grim Vancouver rainy season.
All’s well.
I’m thankful for Thursday and that no one is killing themselves.  Suicide is such lonely social terrorism.  Like a bomb going off and everyone around hurt by the blast.
I do like the sunshine today.  Thank you Jesus

Work breaks, back logs and psychosomatics

I'm a week back from a couple of weeks in Istanbul and Turkey.  It was an incredible learning experience with daily touring and education in mosques, churches, museums, art galleries. I really felt like I was in an "immersion" program, far more intense that my medical study programs.  I had read extensively and taken multiple audio courses before going. Then while I was therein addition to have a guide I was reading and writing daily.
Returning home I was most afraid of the dreaded post overseas airplane 'flu'.  So often I've caught a cold travelling. Once I returned from the third world with dysentry but mostly I've just developped winter colds because of the stress of long flights and contact with so many different people in closed spaces.
Many doctors I know and many businessmen don't take time off from their work, simply because the back log is overwhelming when they return.  I've resisted the temptation to stay in the harness and cope with the excessive daily work.  Instead I take these study breaks and even go on vacation.  Extended weekends don't cause much back log but whenever I'm away from the office more than a week it's bedlam when I return.
When I return from Russia last spring my staff had left and returned to inform me they'd decided they didn't want to live in Vancouver.  The backlog combined with staff turn over was murderous. I worked weekends for weeks and late into the night each day.
There haven't been sufficient psychiatric resources in Vancouver in decades.  If people with physicial disease had to face what people with mental illness do on a daily basis they'd go insane themselves and add to the overwhelming backlog.
When I graduated I saw people weekly and had a waitlist of a month or two.  Now I'm more likely to see people at 1 to 3 month ,sometimes 6 month, intervals and had a 2 years waitlist till I limitted patients to my very specific subspeciality area and also more commonly accepted patients from family physicians I knew.  Increasingly general practitioners and especially walk in clinics want to cherry pick their patients and 'dump' more complex or complicated cases (see psychiatric cases) on the specialists.  All the 'cream' has long been taken from medicine by the midwives, psychologists, counsellors and health food stores.  The 'worried well' just aren't the issue they once were in the standard medical practice.  Probably because they want 'strokes' and only the 'alternative health care folk' have the resources of private funding to entertain the 'worried well' or 'walking wounded.'  Too often the public health care system is serving only the most desperate.  Everyone that pays taxes should have access but often government health services 'triage' resources for the most desperate meaning everyone else is waitlisted months to years.
When I began in psychiatry my patients rarely had more than one or two diagnosis.  Today it's more common for my patients to have multiple psychiatric and physical diagnosis and often major social and financial issues.
When I go away there's no one I can refer to.  It's been 20 years since I could have another specialist 'cover' my practice.  Last year I saw several patients from practices of my cohort clinicians who were simply 'orphaned' when their doctor retired.
In the British Columbia model every patient seeing a specialist must be referred so when the specialist is away the family physician is supposed to provide the care alone.
The irony of this is that only last month it was made public that Quebec doctors on average were seeing only 10 or 11 patients a day whereas the physicians in the rest of Canada were seeing at least 30 patients a day.  Most GP's I know are seeing more like 50 a day in Vancouver.
There's just not any 'fat' in the frontline systems.  Of course this doesn't speak to the Monday Morning Quarter backs.  The Canadian health Care system compared to the German Health Care system has 20 x the administration with no evidence that any of that administration is improving health care delivery or services.
I think I'm just belly aching because despite my best efforts I fear I may be getting a 'cold'.  A facebook cartoon went around about the "ManFlu" with the proverbial woman asking the sick guy in bed, 'can I get you anything, orange juice, soup, kleenex, your balls, maybe?"
I got back last week and all I could do was face the deluge of work that was waiting for me. I was in the office till 7 or 8 each night and missing lunches and hardly taking time to pee.  I had a series of other obligations but the emergencies and despiration demand just took precedence. All I could do was go to work, 'put one foot in front of the next', 'do the next right thing', then get home and sleep. Jetlag was a problem because I was waking at 3 am.  I'm thankfully back to a good nights sleep but now I've the dreaded post nasal drip.
People have cancer, bullet wounds, bankruptcies and alien abductions. Meanwhile I'm here swallowing to see if the throats any rawer.
The fact is it's all psychosomatic.  I'm a whimp. I have 'self pity' at having work, I should be grateful and thankful and glad to have a purpose and use. So normally when I 'overwork' I get sick because as a child being 'sick' was the only way I could miss school.  There were no 'mental health days'.

I have a resentment at the government services too. Alright I admit it I've a resentment at Billionaires. Inflation being what it is I want Bare Naked Lady to put out a new song, If I had a billion dollars, just to keep up with the times.  There's just so much waste and misuse in the system and no one asks me to be Sultan or Emperor. Instead we have millions being made on heroin and cannibis and I'm here like the proverbial dutch boy trying to get people off drugs when the real money is getting people addicted.  Self pity.  Poor me.

It's the January in BC blas and I've been on vacation. Imagine the poor sods who just have to live through January.  Worse is those Climate Change Deniers in Winnipeg and the prairies who have lost all faith in spring with the snow deeper and streets dirtier.

All I've got to complain about is post nasal drip. But I'll milk it.  I'll whine.  Tonight I'll go to bed early. I missed the first week back onslaught of disease but fear I've taken a shot on the second week.  Soon I'll be in medical student ichthitis, convinced I'm dying and certain I've a new Canadian ebola strain when all I have is at best the 'manflu'.  It's so embarrassing.
The other thing that gets me is lice and scabies.  I'd rather run from polar bears. Except I'm feeling lethargy.


Well I'm here, not contagious, not coughing, but sharing my evil thoughts rather than singing hallelujuahs and praising the Lord.  Maybe a trip to Japan for a little radiation would save me from that horror of horrors, the 'man flu'. A man flu can need a dose of Chernobyl.

Really I just think I should have a nap. Nap time should be mandated for all over 50.  A little nap would be good right now.  If I wasn't self employed I'd get the union to lobby for comfy cots and afternoon nap time.  Imagine as a kid I didn't like the kindergarden 'nap time'.  What a fool I was.

I think this blogpost started out as something meaningful and now has devolved into something pitiful. Patients have come and gone and between them I've added disconnected lines. Gilbert is groaning below the desk.  We've had a walk together.  I just "think" I may be getting a cold.  I can't remember how many times, this time of the year, I've been gargling vinegar, dousing myself in vitamin c, sometimes on antibiotics and always gargling and drinking endless soup.  Maybe I've got PTSD from living years in Winnipeg in January and just have flashbacks out here on the coast.
I got the flu shot.  I prayed. I'm a good man.  Why am I being punished? I can feel that tickle in the back of the throat like jalopeno snot just building there.  I remember when I would switch to smoking menthol cigarettes when I had these 'throat ailments'.  It's the big scnoz weakness. If I had a smaller nose maybe I could keep infection out better.

Can't I just go back to bed, pull the blankets over my head and come out when the crocuses and tulips come out.  Here that's only next week or the week after.  I'll shake this off somehow.  Typically, I'll think I can't afford to be sick.  Get thee behind me Satan.  I cast the demons out of the schnoz and pray for healing sleep tonight.  Maybe it was just the propane heater last evening.  Another source of self pity.  They're cleaning the mould in my winter home.

 Maybe I'll get some Vicks and wrap my psychological throat in socks and remember my mother caring for me when I was a kid.  Those were great days and I didn't fully appreciate them at the time.  I miss my parents and aunt as I get older. I think a good reason for death is to get together again with all the folks that have gone.  Grand dad and grandma were others I took for granted.  Now I'm older I wished I'd talked and listened more to them.

Harrison Hotsprings Getaway

My home continues to be under repairs.  Mould damage now. On Saturday I repaired the boat’s hot water heater so might well have a home.  It’s been couch surfing since I arrived back from Istanbul.  Gilbert and I have been welcomed at Laura’s saving me from checking into a hotel like I did last year.  Gilbert loves Laura and gets much better care and walks with her. I’ve been doing the 12 hour doctor day backlog catch up which follows any time off.
Thankfully in the street practice colleagues covered but in my own office it’s just been steady.  My new staff, Angel, has faced the steep learning curve and thanks to her nothing was missed while I was away.  In Istanbul I only had a half dozen or so emails regarding emergencies and a few phone calls.  It was light compared to other times off.
I’ve been bothered a little more recently by the criticism of doctors incomes without the recognition we don’t have pensions, we don’t get paid overtime, we lost 12 years of income in study, the job is dirty and dangerous, very very dangerous at times,  and in my case, I’v  have spent years on call without pay.  I’m actually thankful for some of the ‘equity’ we’ve achieved in recent years with the public sector and many of the corporate employees.  I still don't know if on an hourly basis I've ever got 'minimum' wage but I surely have appreciated that I've a job where I can if needed work long hours and weekends and not take holidays to pay the bills. That was the only way I got through the horrendous divorce costs in bygone years.  Unfortunately because of shortages and cutbacks we feel somewhat guilty when we don't go to work since the need today is so great.  I'm also seeing the fulfillment of 30 years of steady 'service' after the early lean years. I'm thankful to have made it to today when, while I can't afford to own a house in Vancouver like rich people can, I have enough income that I can have a boat and sports car.  Young man's dreams and reality in an old man's body.
I’ve been impressed too with others I know who are doing continuing education realizing that their jobs today might not be available in the future.  So many people left school and got paid while we've been continuing to learn. Today the rest of the world seems to be doing what we took for granted. The computer folk I know are always upgrading just like doctors.  It's the way of the future .I continue to learn and am thankful for these opportunities to address my own areas of profound ignorance.
My time away was mostly study and touring.  So often my travel is really just learning.  These last couple of years I’ve been astonished by how much I’ve learned about Russia and Turkey, a couple of countries I really was ignorant about because of the western bias of news and education.  I don’t think it’s wrong. It’s just the way it is.  Neither country knows much about Canada or even America either. I learned so much about Islam but know that Moslems in general are equally if not more ignorant of Christianity.   I learned so much on the ground. Admittedly I brought a lot of university education and research to the equations so could truly appreciate what I was seeing.  I might well have missed the opportunity to attend Sema, the Sufi Whirling Dervish religious ceremony if I didn’t have the background I do in mysticism.  I certainly appreciated the museums because what I was seeing was from times in history I've studied through my sometimes 'applied' reading aimed as it is at a deeper understanding of the world we live in.  I was truly fascinated by the ride on the Bosphorus and the divide between west and east that Istanbul embodies.
That said, I’m really having a very conventional ‘relaxing escape’ here in Harrisons.  It's  my favourite getaway place near Vancouver.  I love the Harrison Spa Resort  but they charge a $100 for Gilbert to stay so it’s not a place I come to overnight anymore.  .If I can get away for a few days I still like it.  I don't mind that most places like the Ramada charge $20 extra for Gilbert. My favourite Harrison Hotsprings stays have been the Bungalow Cabins. I love these best in autumn. In the summer everyone else loves them and you have to book a week or two in advance.  Right now I’m in the Ramada. This was the old Executive Hotel. I loved the Executive Hotel mostly because of location and comfort.  Since Ramada took over there's a little bit more efficiency but nothing much has changed thankfully. It’s such a short walk to Harrison Hot Springs Public Pool. The public pool gets the mineral hot springs water direct just like at the Resort spa.
Laura and I left Gilbert to have an hour soak in this healing hot spring big hot tub.  I’d put in a take out order before our dip with the Black Forest Restaurant (604-796-9343).  In summer I enjoy this fabulous restaurant because it has great patio seating on the main drag.  Gilbert can sit beside us then on the street.  the food and service are excellent.
With Black Forest Restaurant  take out food in hand, so relaxed I felt like a wet noodle after our soak, we walked back to the Ramada. Gilbert was so pleased we’d returned with his dinner.  The Avengers was on the Ramada’s Shaw Cable.  I loved my Peppercorn steak and Laura loved her Schitzel.  Gilbert loved the tidbits.
I must still be recovering from jet lag and the mass of work because I’d hardly finished dinner before I fell asleep in front of the tv.  It couldn’t have been 9 pm.  I slept till 6 am.  I really ought to have worked out for an hour or read the latest physics text and the Lancet and NEJM . Instead I read Facebook for an hour or so.  Talk about being on vacation.  I might as well have been in Mexico.  Reading Facebook it’s so much fun to see what my friends and their friends are up to and interested in.  I’m so thankful so many of my friends are nut bars with interest in baby animals, silly jokes, inspirational messages and all aspects of the latest political fads and fashion.
I loved the long shower.  People take showers for granted but for us who conserve water, hotels are the place to indulge in the true regal luxury of endless hot water.
Gilbert and  I then had a walk in the rain.  It’s ugly out there. Really windy. White caps on the lake. None of the boats are out. Grey skies. Can’t even see the white capped mountains.  I ordered bagel egg and bacon sandwiches .  Another 5 minutes of walking for Gilbert then collecting the take out and back to the hotel.  Laura, still in bed, enjoyed the ‘hotel’s room service’.
Now I’m watching tv.  There’s a great West Coast BC channel with all these zip lining, hang gliding, shorts about all the things people can do in BC.  There’s just so much to do here.  I love all the activities on the coast.  The church channels were great too with the amazing music and song.  Can’t say I’m a fan of the televangical preaching style but I do like the singing.  The only down side of weakend getaways is missing church.  I love seeing Kevin, AJ and the kids, and all the others,  as well as our choir and the sermons. I’ll miss Father Mark Greenaway Robbins,  his lovely wife Ruth, their kids and dogs.  They’re now in Wales and I’m anxious about whose going to step into their very big shoes.
When I finally get mobile again we’re probably going to visit in Chilliwack as well as check out my RV being repaired in Abbotsford.  It’s definitely a laid back day.  I’ve got the little Miata  . Gilbert shares his seat with Laura and they seem to fair quite well.  At least the kids don't fight.  If Laura wanted to hang her head out the window, there might be trouble.
I think what’s best about this is being in the country. I realize that in Istanbul I was in the heart of 12 million people most of the time I was there. Then I returned to a city of a couple of million. There’s something just restful about being in the country.
I love that I’ve been coming to Harrison Hot Springs for a quarter of a century and love it as much today as I loved it way back when.

Bungalows Paraiso, Melaque, Mexico

My Canadian friend, Marion is the patrona of Bungalows Paraiso in Mexico. Fluent in English and Spanish, Marion is a genius in life as well as academia. She is a psychologist, not the sort that work with white rats in maizes but rather half betazoid like Startrek ship's counsellor, Diana Troy. Lover of intelligence, especially in bad boys and musicians, at last count she had given birth to 7 male lumberjacks and rodeo riders and 3 female goddesses in the far reaches of Canada. There she rode polar bears and dog sledded. As a youth she let her golden hair be used in Saskatchewan to create the golden grain fields that feed the world. Now, always a lover of adventures, she swims with dolphins then siestas on the Melaque beaches, no doubt digesting an excellent meal she just cooked herself with exquisite skill and love. I have been honoured to share her table and have hence been called 'gordo'. She is the friend of all, especially children, old people and dogs. Where she is, there is safety, family, great music, fine food, story telling and laughter. Congratulations, Marion,  on your success in your loved Mexico.

Talisman Inn, Quesnel, BC

Coming into Quesnel at midnight after a week camping in the bush north of Fort St. James, Laura and I were delighted to find the Talisman Inn. The front desk woman was pleasant and helpful. The talisman is pet friendly. The king sized bed room with the $10 Gilbert charge came with taxes to $90. Our van was parked outside in a well lighted parking area while we entered through the locked lobby. Gilbert sniffed the room over before he passed out at the end of the bed. I put our perishables in the fridge and then headed into the bathroom for a long over due shower. Thankfully the dirt didn't clog the drain. When I was finished Laura entered the bathroom and was there till search and rescue found her weeks later.

"This is my kind of place," she said. We had a delicious sleep. I woke at 6:30 out of habit and had to actually get Gilbert up for his morning walk. He stretched and dragged his paws but finally came along. It was raining but not cold like the north had been. He quickly did his business so we could both go back to the room. He was asleep before I was. Laura never woke.

At 9:45 I darted to the lobby for the continental breakfast, hard boiled eggs, bagels, cream cheese, jams, oatmeal etc. I got coffees and eggs and bagels and returned to the room where Gilbert was suddenly fully awake. I offered him part of an egg. After a week in the woods eating rotten things he sniffed at it till I added salt. Well, the yolk might be worth a lick at that, he said.

Laura and I loved the immediacy of coffee. No waiting for the campstove to percolate while making a fire for warmth. I loved the spacious room. Nothing like a week in the woods to make the gloriously mundane heavenly. There's this great tv we didn't even get into. I saw a tv in the lobby for the first time in a week. Civilization is creeping up on us.

Now it's time for check out. Laura looks different. I know what it is. It's her hair. It's lost that helmut look. It's all fluffy and sweet smelling. Now that we're washed we're considering what to do about Gilbert. One idea was to approach a fire department for the use of their hose while another equally appealing one was to go to the nearest evangelical church and insist he's told us he really wants to be baptized.


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The Travel Lite Trail Cruiser

Tenting has been an integral part of my life. From as young as I remember we tented as a family. When I left home I tented. Canoeing I tented. Bicycling across Europe I tented. Driving across Canada and the United States I tented. Hiking in the mountains I tented. 4x4 ing I tented. Fishing and hunting I tented. When I was younger I rarely stayed in campgrounds. As I got older I found myself gravitating to KOA. I liked the showers and flush toilets. Mostly I blamed my increased appreciation for civilization on my partner. She liked the comforts. Obviously I liked roughing it. Obviously.

When us kids left home Mom got Dad to get her a motor home. Together they travelled across Canada and United States. They joined Good Sam Club. They made Good Sam friends and participated in Good Sam activities.

Laura told me that when I'd leave pre dawn to go hunting or fishing, she'd worry about bears as she lay awake waiting for dawn. I'd taught her how to use a little shot gun and left her with that and bear bangers. She only told me about her mornings after I bought this RV.

I told some of the guys I know who hunt and fish about that. Phil said, "That girls' a keeper."

Luke and Sammy and I have been planning a moose hunt since last spring. It seemed like a good time to have a motor home. I figured Laura would enjoy the trip better if I had a motorhome. Not to mention that I might enjoy having a furnace, shower and flush toilet. My back with age prefers a bed to roots and branches. Then there were the killer mosquitoes our last camping trip this spring. They were definitely encouragement.

Craig's List had countless trailers for sale. It's a good time to buy. I have a Ford Ranger Level II V6 4x4. I had to look up the Maximum towing capacity to learn that 5000 lbs was tops though some blogs on the internet said this particular Ranger might go as high as 5800 lbs. It's better to have an automatic transmission and to take it out of overdrive. The hitch I had installed was good for 600 lbs. I had a cooling system added to the transmission and had my brakes checked. I have drums and the bigger trucks have disc brakes. Disk brakes are better. I had an electric braking control added to go with a 7 prong plug.




The only trailers I could get were in the ultralite series. These trailers are made to be pulled by a V6. Roger in Mission had this 23 foot Travel Lite Trail Cruiser for sale. It was a great deal. Laura loved it. Laura liked the combined bath and shower. I liked the furnace and the ability to live aboard it. Everything was there and everything was well thought of. I bought it.

Then terror struck.

Roger lived up on a mountain. After you left his house there was a downhill turn.
I imagined myself rolling down the mountain trailer straight out behind me, Laura, Gilbert the dog and I inside doing some sort of painful and humiliating washing machine thing.

Laura's son in law Ryan has a mega truck and an RV that's a bout the size of what the Mars Mission might use. It's called a 'toy hauler'. His dog Gage is a Great Dane. By comparison, Gilbert is a cockapoo. With age I've been scaling down.





Laura talked to Ryan. He offered to pick up the trailer and take it to his house in the flat land of Chilliwack. I've never hauled a trailer. The day for the move torrential rain struck Vancouver. After doing the transaction with Roger and getting the insurance at Mission Superstore we met up with Ryan and Shannon at Tim Hortons. They'd actually brought their new baby, Kingston.

In my mind this was a military expedition. High risk. Major event. The moving of a trailer. Ryan brought a baby along. Laura had said the day before, "Ryan wants to know what size your balls are?" I'd taken that rather personally until I realized that he was talking about the hitch ball. Roger and Ryan talked all kind of greek before Ryan hitched the trailer to his truck and off we went in the dark and rain. He didn't roll down the hill. Nothing untoward happened on the highway either.

He even parked the trailer backing up with Shannon out behind the vehicle doing some weird cheerleader number with lots of pointing and swinging of her arms. I was humbled.

All week Laura and I were excited that today we'd actually be taking the trailer out ourselves. At the storage locker we loaded the camping gear we usually took without the tent. Then on the way we stopped at Canadian Tire and Sears for the rest of the outfitting. New Carelle unbreakable microwavable dishes and new sheets, pillows, towels and comforter. Of course Gilbert got a new toy.

At Ryan and Shannon's we loaded the stuff from the truck into the trailer and I began to study the hitch and tension bars. See one, do one, teach one was the medical school motto. Thankfully Ryan arrived to oversee my work before heading off on his quad with the baby Kingston on his lap. He wasn't as serious about this whole pulling a trailer behind a truck as I was. He has a certain nonchalance around vehicles. The moment for leaving had arrived.




I'd unchocked the tires, locked every door and walked around the trailer several times. With all this obsessive concern I'd only forget to check if the brake lights and turning signal were satisfactorily connected. A road stop confirmed this later.

I pulled the trailer forward and was ecstatic. "You've only gone two feet." Laura said. "But the trailer didn't jackknife with the truck. We could have been sandwiched." She was not impressed with my catastrophizing.

Wide turns. We made it to the church parking lot in Rosedale. The electric brakes weren't working. We decided to go on anyway.

60 km/hr. 80 km/hr. Braking. Up hill 3000 rpm. Temperature guage steady. No smells. Entering the freeway. 90 km. Many cars and trucks passing.

I'd become one of those. After hotshotting on my Harley here I was an old man with an RV going 90 km on the 100 km highway.

Hope Valley RV Campground. Labour Day Long Weekend. We arrived. They had a 'pull through' spot for us. My secretary had talked with the owner and forewarned them. I didn't squash any small children. We'd come about 80 km. I walked through the park to our spot and thought just maybe I'd be able to handle the turns. Trailers the size of space ships were parked her and there in the woods. I returned to the truck and drove the final distance to the campground.

I even got the trailer disconnected from the hitch and put out the struts. Nothing collapsed. No hole opened in the earth. The truck was fine. Laura loved being inside. I even hooked up the water and electricity thinking this was just the same as a boat in a marina.





I loved the airplane like toilet. Sitting in my bathroom taking a dump I felt like I'd finally arrived. This was my home and I was surely King of the Castle.

After his sniff and piss walk around the park, Gilbert has been all over the bed and couch. His new squeaky toy is competing with Bach playing from the state of the art sound system. At times he's even in rhythm.


Outside people have fires going. There's the smell of wood smoke in the air. I made coffee in a stove top expresso maker. Laura is about to microwave chunky stew. We were going to stop at the grocery but once the trailer was on we decided to settle for food we could get in the Husky gas station market. You can't just park anywhere with a trailer. I have to think ahead and not go anywhere I might have to back up. Not yet. Laura has to do a workshop with Shannon and Ryan on the giving of directions. That is until I can get a rear view camera built onto the truck.

I'm fairly happy with my accomplishment. I phoned Dad. He's 92 and laughed at us having a trailer. I got a Good Sam Club membership too and got a 10% discount already.

All that's missing is a brass band playing and the prime minister pinning a medal on my chest. I can see that in my mind. Laura's smile and Gilbert's glee at being out in the country is good enough for me.

What is tenting? Why do people tent? Whoever would want to tent? I can't imagine anyone who would consider such a thing.





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Maid of the Mist - Niagara Falls

Alright I'm having too much fun. I took a taxi over to the American side of Niagara Falls. I've not been to the falls in 20 years. A couple of wives back by any reckoning. And I only vaguely remember those visits. It was the 60's and the 70's. I'm attending an Addiction Medicine conference in Buffalo. Go figure.

What I do remember is coming here with my parents when I must have been 5 or 6 years old. Watching the kids around me I got to enjoy the awe all over again. As for Romance, given the commercialism it's about as romantic as Los Vegas. There was however a beautiful bride and handsome groom getting their pictures taken in the garden. Even the fish in the pond were shedding tears at the beauty of the bride.

The Maid of the Mist boat ride was exciting. Well worth the $15. One of the women docs had taken her kids over the day before and done the 5 site package tour and said she'd loved it all, the tour getting her past lines and getting her kids from one site to the next.

Today we all got these glorified blue garbage bags which were essential given all the mist and splash. There was actually a brief downpour at the end of the ride making the garbage bag raincoats even more valuable.

While everyone was excited by the falls I was really impressed by the whirlpools and the power of the Maid of the Mist boat. There were some mighty sink holes. The kids were screaming. Water came over the bow. I was glad someone else was at the helm.

The mist turned to droplets. I was snapping pictures with the iphone and running video while my glasses were completely fogged. The boat actually lurched on the turn. I loved it. The squeals of surprise and delight added to the ride. A little boy in the arms of his father was especially enjoyable. Such big eyes!

Yes the falls were where the dinosaurs came for their showers. They're that spectacular. I loved them. I especially loved the Maid of the Mist.

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