As my last hour with security at the hospital wound down, I tried to find as many of my treasured professionals as possible. With firm handshakes and deep hugs I shared honest feelings as best I could. My apologies to the many who weren’t on site at the time for a farewell word.
While the shift changes greatly distorted my one time reasonably good sleep pattern, I have to acknowledge that age and regular stress levels may also be to blame.
Twenty-eight months with security in that small facility revealed a myriad of scenarios and human conditions. Many were good and many were not. But the common denominator proved to be the stellar professional level of attention offered by all on site, the local RCMP members as well.
I watched a wide variety of addicted personnel arrive for treatment both verbal and medicinal. Some merely tried to gain access to a favoured drug they hoped might be freely offered. A few reminded me of where my own addictive personality may have dragged me to if I’d allowed it.
Another chapter of my life awaits to be uncovered and celebrated. At sixty-three years of age I know I can’t delay the progress of time as it tugs at my body. While I feel my mind is ever the better for the passage of time, the body no longer has that benefit.