First, I notice that today is the first of the month.
Second, I will share, for the first time, the first photo of this post.
Here are the first and second questions I had when I first saw that box:
How did Michael decide which knick-knacks were secondary?
Where the hell is the other box of knick-knacks?
It’ll take me just a second to share some other photos for the first time.
First comes peace. Will anybody second that?
Here are the first and second songs that come to my mind:
What do the firsts and seconds in this post mean to you?
It’s not a first for me to end with gratitude. First, thanks to all who helped me create today’s post. Second, special thanks to you — of course! — for being here, now.
According to the Wikipedia page about “Ain’t That Peculiar,” the song is “about the torment of a painful relationship.”
The painful relationship I am most aware of — right now, in my life — is the relationship between me and
my fears,
doubts, and
too-harsh inner critic.
This is on my mind, at the moment, because one of my patients got turned down by an insurance company for long-term disability, even though she cannot work, due to her depression. I’ve heard that initial turn-downs are a matter-of-course, these days. I have to believe that our appeal will be successful. But I just found out, yesterday, that all her treaters, including me, have to submit all supporting arguments by this Friday, or her appeal will be denied.
Ain’t that peculiar? It is to me.
This situation affected my sleep last night. Right now, I am afraid that the other treaters (the medical doctor and the medication prescriber) might not be available to help me document our case well enough, before Friday.
Ain’t that peculiar? Both of them, most likely, will be able — and eager — to help. However, they haven’t responded to my email from yesterday yet, so I am expecting the worst.
Ain’t that peculiar?
The treater who prescribes the anti-depressant medication is somebody I know pretty well and respect a lot. When we first spoke about the disability turn-down, I discovered that we both, automatically, blamed ourselves, because we each felt our documenting notes could have been better.
Ain’t that peculiar? Anything anybody writes could be better, including medical notes. We are not to blame for the disability turn-down. We can (and will) provide more evidence. And we both hope we will do a good enough job, with the appeal.
I am really focusing, this morning, on worst-case scenarios, about this disability case. Therapists specializing in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) might say that I’m catastrophizing about it. These therapists might say that I am blaming, minimizing/maximizing, negative filtering, fortune-telling, mind-reading, comparing, personalizing, name-calling, and experiencing every other CBT distortion on this list.
Ain’t that Peculiar? I AM a therapist who uses CBT in my work. And, there are many good things for me to focus on this morning, including:
More and more people coming to my therapy groups,
My patients expressing gratitude for what they are getting,
My feeling much healthier these days, after some scary medical experiences this year, and
Lots of positive and hopeful developments, in my personal and work life.
And yet, I am focusing, this morning, on worry about this woman and her getting turned down for an extension of her long-term disability, by an insurance company that might initially turn down most disability requests.
Ain’t That Peculiar?
Yesterday, besides thinking about these things, I also took several photos, which is not so peculiar.
Do you see any peculiarities here?
Last night, when my son and I were waiting for a stand-up comedy show to start, I showed him the photos I had taken that day. I asked him if he found anything peculiar about them. Some he did, some he didn’t.
Ain’t that peculiar?
Then, I took these photos:
At this point, I don’t even know what is and isn’t peculiar, myself. I just know I have to get ready for work.
Thanks to Marvin Gaye, Smokey Robinson and the Miracles, people I work with, my son, Cheers, and to you — of course! — for any peculiarities you might bring with you, today.
NOTE added at 2 PM, the same day: I spoke with the insurance company and found out that I had been misinformed. We have more time to appeal. Ain’t that peculiar?
