“Why am I here? is the question I’ve been asking myself lately. I can barely read this page and what I’m writing. And so I posed the question to my neighbor and my best friend. [different people] Because, maybe they might know. My neighbor, here at the South Lincoln Resort, answered: “I don’t know. But I can drive you up to the mountains and we can take care of that.” He was kidding, I think.
My friend, for over sixty years, said he’d been having the same thoughts as me.
Then I pressed him and he said this: “Because my wife still loves me.”
“Fair enough”, I said, “Rings true to me.”
However, I don’t have a wife. And yet …
I did have a therapist, a Psychologist, for almost nine years. She did not love me like a wife would, in some ways. However, perhaps in others, much more to my liking. Let’s talk about that.
Psych-girl
Psych-girl has a Doctorate in Psychology and is licensed to practice in Colorado. I began seeing her in the summer of 2017, for reasons not germane to this post. She was the smartest person I’ve ever had conversations with. We had what I called “intellectual intimacy”. Notwithstanding that it was, for the most part, one-sided. The opposite of intellectual loneliness. We spoke the same language. Moreover, like me, she was forthright and honest, with a dry sense of humor.
And then we had to quit. Because of state and federal rules.
Medicare and Medicaid
For the first eight years I saw her, I paid her cash. Self-pay it’s called. I had no insurance. And then, beginning in March of 2026, at the age of seventy-six, I became a beneficiary of Medicare and Medicaid. What a nightmare.
There are rules, that make no sense whatsoever. Those rules state that she cannot see me because we are in different “networks”. Notwithstanding that we are separated by a mere thirty-four miles of straight, paved, US highway. Even though, during the Pandemic Shut Down, we established a “telehealth” session apparatus that allowed us to chat via The Internet. We could see each other and talk in real time. It wasn’t ideal, but it served the purpose.
She suggested I find someone local to talk to. Because she had to obey the rules that governed her professional licensure. I took to the Google and searched. And this happened, perhaps even more stupid.
More Stupid Rules
I located a clinic and provider I thought might be a good fit–given her profile on their website. They were located just a mile and a half from the South Lincoln Resort. The LMFT (licensed marriage and family therapist) re’d within twenty-four hours.
A Good Wife
A good wife, err, therapist is hard to find. As I stated, Psych-girl is a super smart, super credentialed therapist who was a perfect fit for me. Finding another seemed like a fool’s errand to me. After all: Why would a man leave a wife he was perfectly content with? The grass is greener? Variety is the spice of life? For adventure?
Anyway, I kept searching. I found another, a LCSW (licensed clinical social worker). We had a session and … pffft.
It’s like dating! I recall what that was like. There is, or is not, a spark. At this juncture in my life’s journey time becomes a factor. Furthermore, upon reflection, I think I’m done with therapy.
Why I’m Here
To answer the question, “Why am I here?” – I’d love to be able to talk with Psych-girl about that. However, the law prohibits that. So here I am at the South Lincoln Resort in Loveland, Colorado. The best I can come up with is that I still enjoy writing, thinking, and drinking. AND, listening to music!
I’m not sure if that’s sufficient. That sounds selfish, self-centered.
I’m in a lot of pain. It hurts to move. Reading is really hard.
I went to a local eye doctor. He told me he could fix me up with glasses that could make that easier. Or, I could have surgery. I don’t want surgery. I want new glasses.
As it turns out, new glasses would be expensive. (What isn’t?) Moreover, Medicare won’t pay for the glasses! However, it will pay for the surgery. To me – something smells rotten.
Is that it? Why I’m here?
In Conclusion
In conclusion – I’ve got no answers. However, I do like whiskey, writing, and music. Still.
Moreover, Psych-girl’s counsel is sticky: ” Take care, and don’t drink too much whiskey. I’m rooting for you.”
Okay. Is that enough? What do you think?
Three of my great loves too. Try writing some music. It’s a wonderful experience!
Thanks Cactus! I’m not at all musical w/r/t making it. I gave it a shot back when I was a kid. I think some things (most things) are hard wired in. You can or you can’t (do it well). There’s a spectrum for sure; but I’m an old dog. And I like doing things well. Rachel (above) is giving writing music a go. And, I like your stuff. My brother had a talent for it.
Very interesting read. Writing and music are good.
Thanks, Vanya. 🙂 that’s the goal. I like Dean Martin’s version of the song more; but couldn’t find a live performance. It’s so true – now as then. As to Medicare – it’s almost antithetical to one’s health and well being. more like a pimp for the drug makers. Therapists? can serve many different roles. Good ones do. Take care.