I’ve mentioned before, in bits and pieces, that I’ve kind of isolated myself over the last five years of the pandemic. And that is saying something since I was a strong introvert before. But I stopped a bunch of regular things, and of course, I’m working from home, not in an office. I do have lots of meetings a day in Teams, and with my retirement looming in the next 592 days, I am cognizant that those will end and a lot of my planned activities are solo endeavours. The big trips around North America, kayaking, writing, astronomy, etc. I do plan to join some retiree groups that do cards or lunches a few times a week, to see if I can find a small tribe. There’s a group of former government policy wonks now retirees who meet for breakfast once a week or once a month (not sure), so maybe I can get in on some of their chats.

But something odd happened recently. It’s weird to write this as a white male; it happens to lots of people all the time. But when I go to the doctor’s office, I don’t frequently feel heard.

Don’t get me wrong, they aren’t discourteous. But I often struggle to articulate which of the ten things that are bothering me are the most important to discuss. If I’m in about blood pressure, but I’m having trouble with cuts healing, are they related? Does it have anything to do with my ear hurting? I have a list, and I’m there for one thing, but what I often feel that I really need for the first appointment is to be properly triaged.

But that isn’t a great option when they get paid to handle one or two things and move on.

Yet when I went for my last physical, I felt heard. I felt totally seen. He knew I was there primarily for a medical form that the government needs me to fill out for my pension stuff, not really a proper full-on physical, aka I had a trigger, not just “hey, I need this”. He was late starting, almost 30 minutes, and I was getting annoyed. Not because I was waiting but because I figured that they would shorten my physical time and ask me to come back. Again.

Nope. He came in, and we worked through all the immediate stuff. Then talked about the mental health stuff that I was willing to defer to a later visit, but he wanted to do it now. So we did, and I got my happy pills. Plus, on the other stuff I asked about, I got some good advice. My entire list was covered and then some. And then we did the physical. Not rushed, asking me lots of questions and listening to my answers. Fantastic experience.

And when I left, I found it hard to put into words what was different. And I realized that, as an obese man frequently dealing with doctors who tell me everything is weight-related, not once had he commented about weight or nutrition. He looked at every issue, heard me, gave me what he could, offered advice, and support. And he listened. I felt validated. Heard. Seen.

In most aspects of the world, as a large white man who isn’t afraid to stand up for himself, I don’t normally have that problem. If I want to be seen or heard, I can push to do so. Like most people, I have issues with customer service or support, but not for the same reasons that many do. I have seen 20yos snickering at me in my shorts and compression socks, looking at how big I am or uncool. Whatever. It doesn’t resonate with me much. I notice; I don’t fret.

Yet in medical situations, I have frequently found it unsettling.

Retirees sometimes talk about being invisible, more so women than men, but men too. I worry sometimes about my blogging, that I get few comments. Until I noticed last week that there were a bunch of comments on Facebook/Meta that, for some reason, the website failed to tell me about. I found them by accident, going back six months or so. I see comments on my blog, but I wasn’t seeing the ones on social media. Weird.

Anyway, I am aware of the potential for both invisibility and isolation in retirement. I’m hoping to engage on astronomy more, as I mentioned earlier, my DND group (also mentioned previously) and a couple of other areas still to come in the A to Z of 2026. Preventative steps to shock-proof my retirement, perhaps. Stay tuned.

Let me know if you have less-than-obvious tips on avoiding both isolation and invisibility.

I’ve fallen down on the astronomy front ever since the pandemic started. Once the Public Star Parties for RASC Ottawa “ended” temporarily in 2020, I’ve done almost nothing. I think I’ve only done seven things astro-related since then:

• Set up my scope for 15 minutes at the cottage to observe some sun-spots;
• Checked out the solar eclipse;
• Attended a RASC dinner;
• Continued to be involved in AstroPontiac, including attending the pop-up event in Gatineau two summers ago;
• Went to a star party to wander around a bit and talk to people;
• Did the auditor role for RASC Ottawa for the end of year finances; and,
• Outlined what I might do for a “PolyWogg Guide” for “astronomy 101”.

Oh, wait. Wait, wait, wait. We might have gone to the edge of the river to look at a comet with binos during that time. Or with COVID time involved, that could have been last century. I don’t know.

The really terrible part of all this is that just before COVID hit, there were some REALLY great sales on for the previous Black Friday where I picked up two small telescopes that I wanted to use and make videos about using. And then at that RASC dinner? I won a telescope. That means I have my son’s 4SE, my 8SE, and…wait for it…three more telescopes I’ve never even opened or set up yet. Yet I pretend I’m “into” astronomy.

Just like book buying and book reading may be two separate hobbies at times.

Anyway.

*cough*

Where was I? Oh, yeah, thinking about what I want to do for the year in the way of astronomy.

1. USE MY SCOPES! Obviously, duh, I want to set up my scopes and use all of them! No, not at once. But over time. Hopefully at Star Parties this year.

2. DECIDE IF I’M BUILDING AN OBSERVATORY. Yeah, yeah, I know, this is that old chestnut again. Except Jacob designed me a format/layout/blueprint of a workable design, and we might actually have room to do it this year. Although, if I put off retirement to next year, it could wait. The point is to make the decision, not the build. I’d like to lay the pad and install the pier this summer if we can.

3. EXPAND MY LEARNING. I’ve looked into a bunch of academic courses to pursue in my retirement, and considered even doing a formal degree in astronomy / astrophysics. However, there aren’t many online options that are ideal for what I want to do. Instead, I’ll cobble some together from Coursera and The Great Courses, plus potentially a bunch of astro podcasts and YouTube sites.

4. START WRITING MY GUIDE. There are two aspects of my guide that I can do sooner rather than later, even without the above efforts. I can write the intro part for the history of astronomy, and I can write the intro to telescopes, their design, and their pros/cons.

5. PHOTOGRAPH THE MOON. I want to see if I can do a bunch of nights in a row at a time to try and snag the moon across all 28 days of its cycle. Maybe I get it done this year, maybe I don’t.

6. ENGAGE WITH THE ASTRO COMMUNITY. I’m a member of both RASC Ottawa and the Peterborough Astronomical Association, and while they have their meetings on the same night each month, I don’t attend either. Sigh. I need to do SOMETHING more “social”.

If I get into it heavier, I have another 20 ideas of things to do. 🙂 But I’ll aim to do at least the first one above — use the actual telescopes I have!

There are some potential things to plan around visible from my location:

• January 10th — Jupiter will be at opposition
• April 19th — Conjunction of the Moon, Pleiades and Venus
• June 9th — Conjunction of Jupiter, Venus, and Mercury **
• August 15th — Venus as the “Evening Star”
• August 27-28th — Potential partial lunar eclipse (closing shadow)
• October 4th — Saturn at opposition
• October 5th — Conjunction of Moon and Mars
• November 14-15th — Conjunction of Jupiter and Mars
• December 24th — Christmas Supermoon

I love the plan for June 9th (**) because I’ve never seen Mercury. It’s usually so faint and low, I’ve never been able to see it. Maybe I’ll get lucky this year, with a bit of planning to help it. It’s a Tuesday night, so I’ll have to find a good locale with a low horizon.

I’m excited, and hopeful. But also really freaking lazy. Hence, my goal is to set up a few times, and the rest is just potential gravy.