And no thanks do I get
for thirty years in medicine
for thirty years of rural work
for working alone without a net
not a whisper from officials
The thanks I get are on the street
in the shops, at live music
at Gallery Walk, at thrift stores
walking through town, from friends
from patients or spouses or mothers or fathers
who thank me and update me
Thank you, Beloved, for my odd career
for leading me rural, leading me to primary care
endless learning daily and people
they are all interesting, all different
all have depths that none would guess
all of your beautiful people, Beloved
Thank you for all of it
For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: tiara.
This is one of those poems where I started grumpy and did not know where it was going until it went there. The light at the end of the tunnel photograph is on the Metro in Washington, DC last week.
Tiaras probably quality as stuff.
KO Rural Mad As Hell Blog 
Beautiful
Thank you very much.
That’s how I felt when I was pushed into retirement. “Where’s my gold watch? Where’s my ‘thank you masked man’?” BUT…it is as you say here, in what I did, the people I taught whose lives are MORE because of that. No gold watch equals that in value. Anyway, doctors in parts like this are scarce and not always the best. It’s not an easy place to live. It takes a special person to choose primary care in a rural area. So… THANK YOU!!!
Thanks! For choosing primary care, for practicing rural medicine, for including Lou and Peter!
Wow! Thank you, too, for your work! Ooo, I got a bike rack for Christmas so now I can take my 02 concentrator out on the bike and get rolling again. I hopefully won’t need it but might on hills.