Thursday the 16th , this is re-retirement day. I finally give up paid employment and any pretence of being a professional in private practice or a consultant in any way shape or form. I am a true pensioner now. What a time to chose to throw myself on the mercy of my pension , but I guess there is never a good time to do that. So in my last day of status and employment I get up and make a celebratory coffee and fried egg sandwich. One of my nieces messages to say she has got a Princes Trust Award to set up as an independent counsellor with support. She has already found a share of a consulting room in town in a good location. So as I close my career so hers begins to blossom. I like the synchronistic feel of this. Mr doctor rings and we discuss my back pain and decide it is something for the oncologist and I to discuss as I probably need to have another scan. In the conversation he tells me I am diabetic based on some tests that were done on my urine sample. I admit to a sweet tooth but I am a bit taken aback. Then he relooks at the results and it tells me that has confused me with another “Rowland”, spelt differently to me. I chuckle, so good news after all.
I sit on the patio and enjoy my sandwich as the rest of the household slumbers late. As it is my re-retirement day I recalculate some of the “days since” related to my health. They turn out as follows:
- DAYS SINCE HOSPIAL IN JAMACIA 1193
- DAYS SINCE CANCER DIAGNOSIS 1093
- DAYS SINCE FIRST ONCOLOGY 1039
- DAYS SINCE FIRST CHEMO 1017
- DAYS SINCE END CHEMO 891
- DAYS SINCE DVT 829
- DAYS SINCE COVID START 11
As I calculate my neighbour mows his lawn loudly. I do not know if its possible but I swear his mower sounds smug. Anyway I am pleased that I have moved into the thousand day mark for some of them. It gives me motivation to begin to think about training again after a break of 30 days. Given the lay off I am surprised that I weigh only 96.7 kilos, I was expecting more.
So I am on my patio, fed, coffee’d and listening to my garden and of course I start to write because that is what I do when left to myself with the universe. So this is what I wrote on my re-retirement day.
I am alone in my garden Sun on my back The air is still. This is my last day No more employment, Being useful Making a contribution. Today I stop being A forensic psychologist, Professional, Expert. I am alone in my garden With days to fill, A brain to feed And all the the fears That stopping brings. There is no me out there No place in the world. So this is it. I am alone in my garden Somehow the words are sticky The ink blotchy The flow difficult. There are ghosts in the garden And fears budding, Flowers going over. A noisy neighbours mower, I am alone in the garden.
So that is the start of my day. Now its time to open the Shed and see where the rest of the family are. A drift to noon has been easy and now to continue in the Shed. I should add that I have acquired a new set of Bluetooth training ear buds which means I can move around with sounds in my ears if I choose. Perfect for blocking out the neighbours mower or other extraneous sounds with the luxury of them monitoring for calls and messages.
I never make the Shed but lunch with my partner who has slept all morning. I continue to potter until we go to the village shop to buy food, papers and essential Maltezers. My partner tries to collect a prescription from the chemist but they cannot find it. We dutifully trudge to the GP surgery and back to collect the prescription and have the chemist fill it. We return home with our well travelled vitals. Coffee and time with the newspaper puzzles before our garden guy arrives. I move a car so he can hack back the private in the drive and continue to solve puzzles. He does his work and goes and all the while I sit on the patio enjoying the warmth going out of the day. We will dine on the patio tonight. I would light the chimenea but I notice the fir tree is over hanging it and the last thing I want is an exciting fire incident to end the day with. Tomorrow I will trim said tree and then we can indulge tomorrow evening. My evening is going to be gentle and domestic. If my toggle collection arrives I shall be sewing replacement toggles on to my light weight trousers, of which I have several pairs and so my re-retirement will see me sewing clothes. Will I be ready for next years Great British Sewing Bee? I doubt it but it would be nice to be able to knock up the odd garment now and again. To date I think I could only manage a pair of gownless evening straps. I have missed my colleagues at the conference but they have sent me pictures of themselves and short videos to say hello and to tell me they miss me. It seems odd not to be part of the team any more but perhaps I will get an opportunity to say farewell properly at some point.
