My office hours had finally ended for the day.  My

loyal staff had gone home.  I was now sitting alone, almost

motionless at my desk while reflecting on the events of my

just completed day.  I also was preparing to leave for home,

my soft couch, and maybe a well deserved small glass of my

favorite, Harvey’s Bristol Cream.  My heavy coat was on,

and I was thinking if I needed to do anything else that was

pressing before departing.  The doors were locked and the

lights of the office were off; the room was dark, except for

the green shaded desk lamp, which was casting its

illumination downward onto my perpetually messy desk. 

The telephones had finally gone silent, and it was now ear

humming quiet.  It was about 5:30 p.m. on a very cold,

December evening and already nighttime outside.        

    I was very tired.  I was no longer a young man, and

time was definitely moving on.  I recently experienced

another birthday, but I had reason to be tired, after all, I had

seen about fifteen patients today.  I was still working as if I

were filled with youthful energy.  How much longer would my

life continue in this manner?  I recently started to think more

and more frequently about retiring.  My health was relatively

good and, in addition, I felt God had blessed me with a

remarkably good brain.  My memory was great, and I could

think as well as I did when I was at my best.  Maybe I could

continue in this fashion for a while longer.

    Suddenly my mind wandered as I smiled to myself

when I remembered staring for a moment at the sign on the

fence, while parking my car outside of my office earlier that

                                       

                                                                                    pg.8