Kvetch II

I don’t have a very early patient this morning .... but the Pooch (I’ll
call him Pooch ... not to protect his privacy but because he’s named
after a colleague who died and I haven’t been able to tell his widow
about my keeping the name going .... might not be amused .... even
after 8 years) and I both have to pee. He's seven and
I'm Playing in the Last Quarter.

It’s 5 and Marsha’s still sleeping. Sleeping is a funny thing. I reminisce a
great deal, these days ... pleasant musings – for the most part. Once
upon a time, a man slept. I’m one of the LQP’s (Last Quarter Players)
who falls asleep quite well and wakes up with equal ease in the middle
of the night .... usually every hour or so .... to listen to the clock?.

In my 50’s, I would sweat it: “Whatsamatta with you? Can’t even sleep!”
No more. Nowadays when I arise, I rest or look at Marsha or ... or if it’s
near-time for Pooch to indulge his toilet, I take him downstairs. I like my
rest, even if sleep is preferred. I can wax morbid and think about the
folk that I miss. Guess I’m too old to be an official orphan .... Truth?  I
do think of my parents ... the kid I married 45 years ago, now snoring
ever-so-quietly next to me .... my grand-kids .... the visitors who are
scheduled to come see me, today, in my office. Mostly pleasant thoughts.

Went upstairs. Marsha was still asleep. I quietly
gathered my things and headed for a quick shower. Afterwards, the
usual: stepping into briefs requires both balance and a kvetch all it’s
own. Legs usually still ache a bit from yesterday’s run (I actually have
not run due to a herniated disc that's now healed .... indeed, I'm to begin
running, again, later today for first time since that herniation) ... my lower
back creaks ... my knees make a gravel-like sound when I descend
stairs. Coffee, e-mail, open office (I’m in the fourth decade of 
practicing in an office attached to my home), and sit down to my notes
... Playing in the Fourth Quarter.

Tomorrow will be special. Got to meet with a new Doctor (definition:
someone half your age who identifies you with their ailing or dead
parent).

On my entrance to the Last Quarter, some time ago, I rewrote my
annual birthday card;
I'll post it, later.