Sorry for the lateness of the hour, but I had my yearly physical this morning, the last of my scheduled yearly or semi-yearly appointments. I have now crossed off three doctors and a dentist. All that’s left is to schedule my eye appointment.

When I was a kid, I only saw the doctor if something happened or I was really sick which was seldom. My parents were of the generation which didn’t see doctors for well visits. My mother was sick one Christmas in Colorado and my sister dragged her screaming to the doctor who said she had pneumonia. That was her first visit to a doctor since my sister had been born over forty years before that. I have a stable of doctors, or at least that’s what I call them, as several parts of my body have their own specialists. It seems the older I get the bigger the stable.

It is cold today but sunny, and the sun is warm. My car was hot when I left the doctor’s office. A wind is swaying the tops of the pine trees and blowing the dead leaves hanging off the branches, but I think I’d call it a pretty day if anyone asked.

When I set up an appointment for next year’s physical, the receptionist asked if I had any preference for a day. I said no. I didn’t tell her they’re all the same to me, that they are my days to do what I want. She asked if morning was okay. I said no. Once a week I set my alarm to meet my friend for breakfast at nine, and I don’t fancy setting it for any other day. My alarm clock is battery run, and I only put in the battery when I need to use the clock so the battery and clock sit idly on my bureau. I don’t even wear a watch though I did bring one to Ghana last year which is funny when I think of it. Ghana runs on its own clock. The time is arbitrary. Meet me at nine means nothing of the sort to a Ghanaian. It really means meet me whenever. The buses run by the Ghanaian state transport leave on time, but they only go to major stops. The other buses which go from town to town and village to village leave when they are filled. That sometimes means waiting hours.

I am by nature impatient, but I became patient when I lived in Ghana. After I got home, the patience wore off. Last summer it came back, and it was one of the favorite parts of my trip: remembering that life isn’t a whirlwind. Things will get done. You just have to be patient.