Medicare

     Medicare.  White-haired senior citizens.  Medicare.  65-year-olds.  Medicare.  Part A.  Medicare.  Part B.  Medicare.  Part C.  Medicare Part D.  Medicare.  Medigap.  Medicare. Open Enrollment.  Medicare.  Fraud.  Medicare.
     Each of these are aspects of Medicare.  Yet, Medicare--the word, "Medicare"--evokes emotions as inflamed as arthritic joints.  I cannot--I will not--inflame the word further by engaging in the political debates surrounding the federal program.
     I find myself at a peculiar crossroads.  Had you told me five years ago that I would be selecting which Medicare Parts B, C, and D options to select, I would not have believed you.
     An envelope from the Social Security Administration arrived this week.  My question, "Do I need to initiate contact regarding Medicare?" was answered.  No.  As I hoped, I could read the wealth of information given to me, sign onto a helpful website, www.Medicare.gov, and create an account.  My guard against anxiety, and obsession is a playful detachment.
   I love crossword puzzles.  I love the World Wide Web--navigating the structure of its information, the internet.
   With playful discovery, I found a database into which I may search for my doctors, hospitals, pharmacies.  Nursing homes?  No, I am far from ready for that move.
    It is ironic.  I tell one of my nephews to join the world of adult responsibility.  Yet, I tell myself not to get too obsessed regarding the eventualities with which the plan options confront me.
    One of the options I will not select is Plan H--Political Hyperbole--which plays on the emotions of senior citizens, and others eligible to receive Medicare.  I will steer clear of candidates, who use a condescending tone in their discussions of Medicare.  I will steer clear of Victims' Volley--a game too often played by politicians, in which recipients of Medicare become political footballs.
     Do you think Medicare will judge ear plugs I buy as medically necessary?