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Oh my! My head is spinning!

I left paradisiac Mitchells Island at 9 am to drive south as I was scheduled for root canal therapy in Sydney in the early afternoon. The dental specialist that performed the procedure, an endondontist, did the 75 minute treatment while I was looking up at the ceiling watching Mr. Bean videos, hearing easy- listening tracks on the stereo, and, at the same time, trying to do mindfulness meditation. It’s a very trippy experience when half your face is frozen.

Now, as the novacaine is wearing off, I’m sitting in a Darlinghurst hotel room with Daniel who has injested a substance to clean out his digestive tract in anticipation (?) of an colonoscopy and a gastroscopy tomorrow morning at St Vincent’s Hospital.

For a little diversion, and to leave Daniel some time to do his business, I’m going off now to visit a colleague and friend at Prince of Wales, where she has undergone a double hip replacement.

Am I getting old such that I and many of my mates revolve in a constellation of medical appointments and procedures?

Or, rather, is it true, as the sign in a fancy Crown Street cheese shop said, age doesn’t matter unless you are a cheese?

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