Life at almost 75 is a life of less. Relatives and friends die. I no longer have Kodachrome, Ektachrome, Polaroid pack film, wide track Pontiacs or even Oldsmobile Achievas. And somewhere in my past they stopped making bacon flavoured Eggo Waffles.

Life at almost 75 is more. It is more noise, more choices (that should not be), more concerns and more health issues.

Of that latter I have been informed by our family G.P. Colin Horricks that he is retiring on August 24. 

My guess is that we will now be at the mercy of walk-in clinics.

This leads me to reminiscing about our first family GD in Buenos Aires (the type that went to my home). As a child when I liked something I would eat it until more than full. I particularly liked apples. In Spanish when you eat something as of there were no tomorrow the ill-feeling effect is call an empache. My mother would call Doctor Imperiale and tell him, “Alex se empachó.”

I remember that he had a thin moustache and wore dark-rimmed glasses. His treatment was always the same. For breakfast it was Melba toast and for lunch and dinner a soft cheese, soda water and (yes!) apple sauce.

The GPs that came after I have no memory of but I do remember Eliot Mintz who was our doctor in Vancouver until he died.

Dr. Mintz was not your usual GP. He drove a Lotus and bred blue Chow dogs. He had another special talent. I took my oldest daughter Ale when she was around 12 to see him as she had a mass of warts on her knees. Dr. Mintz sat her down and produced a penny. He told her to rub each wart with it and then bury it in the garden and to make sure nobody saw her do it. Within a week the warts were gone.

Dr. Horricks when I first went to him made me smile. For one he is friendly. But his name reminded me of my Filipino uncle, Tió Luís Miranda who would offer me (I was full grown adult at the time) Horlicks telling me it was very good for me.

Horlicks - Wikipedia