I went to Vermont to speak with a cannabis medical specialist. We went over my experience with cannabis, and she agreed with me that I should halt taking edibles for anxiety; she said I didn’t seem all that anxious and had a good attitude. She said she saw no reason not to continue my tiny doses of edibles before bedtime. I was alert, focused, and rested. The sleep is good for me, she said; the anxiety medication seemed unhealthy and unnecessary.

I agree with all of that. I came home (I still see a chiropractor for my back injuries sustained a couple of months ago; I am almost wholly healed.)

On the way home, the wind shrieked and cut through like a nice. I couldn’t open the car door. It was blowing hard, but I got out and took two sunset figures from Route 68. They captured the feeling. It’s good to be home. I have a cup of orange tea, and I’m thawing out. My foot is healing well, I go back to Dr. Daly next week to have the stitches out.

Tomorrow, I visit my primary care doctor, Dr. Dodge, to check my hearing. It might be wax, or it might be time for a hearing aid. I don’t know which.  I notice I keep saying “what” a lot to things other people seem to hear. I’ve learned to embrace preventive medicine and not hide from my body.