Clean bills of health provided by the doctor with the honor of monitoring the physical well-being of the Colonel and Miss Brenda, at the conclusion of our annual check-up yesterday.
After fifty years of military medicine, it has been a bit of an adjustment for us as we have transitioned from the government collective to a local Family Practice doctor for our primary care. One of the welcome changes has been having adults tend to our health. The medicos in uniform were all to often youngsters still fighting acne--in the main, very effective, but very young and relatively inexperienced. It had gotten a bit disconcerting to be poked and prodded by folks who looked much, much younger than my own very young kids.
When the comely and kind-hearted Miss Brenda and I emigrated from the Redneck Riviera to the Northern End of Southern Nowhere two years ago, we experienced the joy of doctor shopping for the first time in our lives. We settled on one who had the two critical prerequisites--long-past achievement of adulthood and acceptance of Tri-Care (our military retiree medical plan). His office staff were also adults, and even more exciting, long-time members of our new community. Yesterday, as the nurse drew our blood, we talked about an uncle of hers who is a neighbor. Never had that experience with military medicine!
Miss Brenda is proud to announce that, according to our new favorite doctor, she has "the heart of an athlete!" On the other hand, the Colonel, whose internal operating systems are, likewise, in good working order, got no such athletic arterial comparison. The Colonel, as will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me well, has no heart.