I got called in to see a patient last night, just as I aimed my sights toward bed. I finally returned home to shower and fall into bed around 2am, tossing and turning and checking my patient’s vital signs on my phone all night long. (It was sepsis. We caught it in time.)
The next morning was berry picking; I know better than to cancel such an adventure with a friend when they’ve agreed to show me their secret berry spot. And so, I went along with my day, fumbling and stumbling and even falling asleep at the farmer’s market. My girls delivered scoops of berries to each stand, in hopes of a barter. We came away with falafel, sunflower sprouts, Haskap grapes, and garlic scapes.
There is no better town in which to learn the practice of medicine and the practice of foraging and food. I love it here.
