Adults invest effort crafting their personal infrastructures. And when any of one’s trusted professionals departs, consequences ensue.
Initially there is shock; a crack in our foundation! From there, we proceed to denial.
We might tell ourselves there is plenty of time to deal with this, or just let the whole matter slide.
The latter, as it turns out, can be a bad idea.
For me, the saga of provider-replacements began with the retirement of my insurance agent. At the time, I couldn’t believe I was old enough to have someone retire on me, but an insurance agent is not a doctor, and I got over it.
The retirement of our beloved family dentist was another matter entirely, and all I can say is that after years of unhappily jumping from practice to practice, I have found my forever dental home.
I had begun to feel like an old hand at this replacement game, until at the end of last year,
I realized that I was languishing in the denial phase longer than usual when it came to finding a new dermatologist. I did in fact locate an excellent practice, but failed to consider that since the organ being examined measures on average 18 square feet, they might find something.
In fact they found several somethings, and though none of them proved serious, there were things to be done that I didn’t much enjoy.
I booked the procedures as instructed, compliantly appeared to be treated, and promised to follow recovery instructions.
No twisting (no sports), no bending (everything else), no lifting!
For a month.
This Purgatorio, despite great forbearance, taught me I am less chill than I thought, absent my sports-acquired endorphins.
And I would schedule differently, if there is a next time.
But as my confinement comes to an end, I will take special joy as I golf amongst the cicadas, and dig in the garden.
Wearing a hat, long sleeves, and plenty of sunscreen. ©
