Hooray!! We had 20 minutes of light rain yesterday. The shallow-rooted plants are happier today.
Yesterday I went for a longish walk with my friend, Shel, who was an emergency physician before he retired. He is still working, but not in a hospital. He is a medical repatriator now; he flies around the world to escort sick Canadians back to Canada from abroad.
He got me thinking.
In grade eight or nine a teacher of mine, one Mr. Smith, a social studies teacher got to me. I sat in the front centre seat in the class, right in front of where he liked to stand to lecture us and he showered me with spit.
Another thing about him were his white Terylene shirts. Terylene was a kind of plastic fabric and his shirts had turned yellow in the armpits. All that—the spit and the yellow pits—plus he was not very intelligent so one day, I lost it with him.
I tossed my ring binder at him and went directly to the office to report myself and I keenly remember the kindness of the administrator who talked to me. I did not get into trouble and, even better, Mr. Pelman gave me some sage advice: He told me I should work in a meritocracy and never become an employee of a hierarchical system.
In college I had a strong desire to become a doctor. I took pre-med courses for my first two years of college as a Science undergrad, but organic chemistry bored me and anatomy (dissection) disgusted me so I quit and switched to Arts and studying English literature and I have had mild regret about that decision ever since.
But no more: After walking and talking with Shel, I am so glad I did not become a doc—rather, I am so glad I did not choose to work in a hospital.
Although I tire of solitude, it is what I am best at. I work best alone, in self-employment.
And that makes me wonder if I am as hard to be around as I find it hard to be around people. I hope not. The presence of a few fine, fabulous friends tells me, thank God, that I am okay in small doses.