243 Avenue Rd.
Accepting Visitors
I am accepting visitors, masked of course, and one of them was a pleasant Dr. Juta who happened to be my family physician. He rather surprised me when he told me he moves between nursing homes and that, in the not so far past, he lived in Belle River, near my stomping grounds in Ontario’s Southwest. Also, he is one of those outstanding, soft-spoken but hard, self-driven professionals that come out of South Africa; where current political struggles prevail.
Dr. Juta took off the surgical dressing of my left knee to offer a new, reincarnated attire of gauze bandage. What was revealed, to my eyes and the eyes of my physio assistant, was the cut line of my surgery and the staples holding it together; not the prettiest sight.
I relayed to the good doctor my experience during surgery. “When you enter the hospital, from the rear on Murray Street, due to construction, you see some scaffolding and other related renovations going on. I went inside for a three-hour procedural wait and then came the moment for the critical cut. I was awake most of the time and noticed the sound, of what seemed to be sledgehammers and chainsaws, and I wondered that these sounds are particularly close by and loud enough.
Reason entered and I figured it out, “Wait a minute, that noise is closer than I thought. That is the surgeon working on me, cutting through my bone.” I was numbed — frozen — from spine to toe so I couldn’t feel anything. I had to calm myself knowing I’m in good hands and that Krishna is watching over me.
May the Source be with you!
0 km (but many kilometers/miles covered is on my mind)
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