Welcome to Medicare!

I finally had managed to navigate all of the hoops the government sends us older folks to get myself signed up for Medicare.

There is a plan for this and a plan for that and little "windows" that you need to sign up during or else the bill is going to be way higher.

Of course someone, probably the government, sold my name and address to every single insurance company on the face of the Earth so every day my mailbox was full of offers. Most just tacked on 20-30% to the cost and underwrote the policy, or they sent little official looking cards with account numbers, all I had to do was call.

I finally got it done, the government got a chunk of my Social Security check back, and another chunk went to cover the other policy I had to buy to pay the 20% part and things the Medicare policy wouldn't.

Then of course I needed the THIRD policy to cover any drugs I might need. One payment they just deducted from my check, the Medigap thing I had to write a check for, then the drug coverage, something about a doughnut hole whatever that is, they deducted that, too.

I read the crap about all the tiers and it's a good thing I got the "simplified" manual because I finally just gave up and signed up for something I thought I could afford.

Finally I got it all handled, I even had enough money left over for a few boxes of noodles and cheese, just add water and throw it in the microwave.

Life was just fine, I went back to getting my fishing gear into shape and looking for some beach volleyball games on cable TV. Man, they have this one team that has these two tall gals, they wear those skimpy little outfits and jump around and...

Where was I?

Oh, yea. I got this flyer from the Government, mentioning that I had a complete physical as part of my "Welcome to medicare" stuff coming.

Hell, free is a very good price and I couldn't even remember the last one I had ever had done.

I had always had that HMO thing before, every once in awhile we were supposed to go see the doc and chat about golf. If we were sick, we went to emergency. Or off to the urgent care clinic which they moved every six months so no one could find it.

After forty years in the same HMO I was pretty familiar about where everything was, but the change to Medicare meant I had to find a different doctor. I could have stayed with the HMO but their idea of the plan was for me to pay the government and then pay them, too.

Plus a nice bit extra for being old, I guess.

When I saw the amount they wanted to add me to their policy after I turned 65, I said no way and went with a private system. It was still about half of my fucking monthly check but that was better than all of it!

I called several local Doctors, every single one told me they were not accepting any new patients. After about the 5th call I was getting pissed off, why the fuck do they advertise if they aren't taking any new patients?

Finally I was referred to Community Health, I sat in the waiting room for two hours after my appointment time, surrounded by young people that didn't speak English.

It took me awhile to realize that probably every single one of them had the clap.

Or worse.

I finally saw the bored Doctor, he ordered a blood test and told me to quit smoking, then said they would schedule my physical.

Then he left the room.

After six weeks I called the clinic, they didn't know what happened to the blood test and had no record of my so-called physical. Then the lady on the phone asked me if there was anything else they could do for me today?

I hung up.

A few weeks later, I was reading the local paper. The small coastal town I live in runs a lot of stories about local politics, and I enjoyed reading them. It seemed that some lawyer was always representing a client fighting with some city commission about trying to build something somewhere. There were neat arguments over having to cut down a tree, wetlands crap, on and on.

Small towns, you just gotta love them.

Local politics gets real dirty it seems, and it sure has Judge Judy beat for entertainment.

On the second page there was a story about a new medical clinic opening up, in our little town that was news! I knew why, since I had just been through that.

I reached for the phone and called. They booked me for my first visit just two days later. I asked the receptionist what the doctor's name was, she told me I would be seeing Olivia Martens, and that she was an NP.

Whatever in the hell an "NP" is?

I turned on my computer and searched. In minutes I knew an "NP" was a Nurse Practitioner, not a doctor. I thought about that a minute, what the hell. It didn't bother me any. During my few stays in the hospital in my life I found the nurses were the only ones that ever knew anything, the doctors mostly just did what they were told.

That and chat with clients about golf once in awhile.

Next I searched the medical sites for her name, and found out where she had gone to school, where she had worked, I even searched for any complaints and there weren't any.

That sounded all right, besides, medical service in our little town was hard to come by for some reason. I could understand that, most doctors probably wanted to work up in Portland where there were lots of people and more money to be made.

I had even talked about it to a guy I know down at our local men's club when I visited to suck down a few whiskey and cokes. He told me that the easy way to find a doctor was have a heart attack, then go to emergency. Whichever doctor that showed up to deal with it was then stuck with you for life.

I laughed at that, it was funny. Then I asked him about our men's club. It had been years since I lived back down at the coast, our men's club used to have topless bartenders and we had all sorts of fun.

He just looked at me, then he told me sadly we now had a women's club that allowed men to come in, and all of the elected positions were now held by women. Some stupid court case about women's rights and all that shit.

The damn world was going to hell in a hand basket, it seemed.

I arrived for my appointment and checked in. Then I sat down, grabbed a National Geographic, figuring I might as well learn about Neanderthals while I waited.

I barely got the cover open when they called my name.

Wow! That was better, I thought.

I followed the nurse down a long hallway and was told to undress and put on one of their gowns. I hate those things, they all have silly flowers on them and tie in the back. It is physically impossible for a man to tie a knot behind his back, I know, I have tried.

Heck, I used to watch my wife take her bra off without taking off her blouse! Go ahead, tell me there ain't any differences between men and women.

Where was I?

Anyway, I just left the thing untied, sat down. There was a knock in 30 seconds after I sat down, and Olivia entered the room. I don't know what I expected, nurses and doctors all know about medical so they should be healthy and in good shape.

This gal was about 40, around 5 foot tall and an easy 175 pounds. I had expected a smock, a uniform, but she was wearing a sweater with a cartoon character on the front of it and red pants. She looked at the chart, the little form I had filled out that asked questions about my medical history. Hell, there were diseases listed on the thing I had never heard of.

Still, several of them I had concerns with, Angina I took pills for, a bit of breathing problems, most likely from my half pack a day bad habit. Then my bladder being the size of a Walnut and my Prostate the size of a Grapefruit that made me get up 3 to 4 times a night to take a leak...I checked quite a few of them.

It had even asked about erectile difficulties, I had checked that too since I was trying to be honest.

But what the hell, I was 65 years old, things didn't work as well as they used to, and since I was taking Nitrates there wasn't anything that could be done about it anyway.

She read down the list, looked me up and down with a smile. Out came the tools, she listened to my heart and lungs, how they manage to get those things so cold is beyond me. I think they keep them in a deep freezer.

My knees got whacked, it had been years since anyone ever did that to me. She tugged the gown down to my waist and peered around all over. I guess she found something she didn't like, out came a spray bottle and she froze a few spots on my back.

Then she parked her oversize fanny on a little roller stool.

"Come here, stand right in front of me." She said.

I did what she asked, she lifted the gown up and told me to hold it. Then she reached out and lifted my testicles, rolling each one carefully with her fingers. She had me do the turn my head and cough bit, first one way, then the other.

I figured that was it, but she went back to rolling my balls over and over. After about 30 seconds of that she reached under them and lifted rubbing her finger right over my Perineum.

That caused my cock to twitch, I was blushing slightly now.

"Well, there seems to be some response." She said.

Then she reached up with one hand and took hold of my six inch penis between her thumb and forefinger. She rolled that several times, It started to grow slightly. I looked away, hoping she wouldn't notice, but she kept right on with that rolling motion.

"Do you mind if I push your foreskin back?" She asked, sliding it back before I could open my mouth to answer. I barely managed an "I don't mind" as she was already turning the head of my cock back and forth. Then she used her thumb to wipe a dab of moisture out of the slit, and she rubbed that across the exposed head. Her thumb worked back and forth at least a dozen times.

Then she went back to feeling my balls.

"Your right testicle seems bigger than the left, does it hurt?" She asked, looking up at me with a smile.

"No, not that I notice." I managed to answer. My cock was now about half hard and showing no signs at all of going back down, and for sure it wasn't going to if she kept this up.

"Good. You do seem to be having a nice response, it isn't completely firm but your penis does react to stimulation." She mercifully let go of my cock, it stuck almost straight out.

She sat there and looked at it with a smile on her face as I stood there holding the gown up at each side. I was waiting for her to tell me what to do next, finally after a solid minute of standing there like that more or less just displaying myself to her, I let the gown drop.

Olivia blinked a couple of times and sat upright, it was like she had almost been in a trance.

"OK. Well. I need you to lean over the table, I want to check your Prostate." I saw her pull off her glove, then reach for a fresh one and pull it on.

I turned to the table, leaned over it. I was barely into position when I felt her index finger slide easily into my rectum. There was a brief pressure and she ran her finger back and forth sideways, then she pulled her finger partway out and pressed it inside again.

After she had done that no less than a dozen times, I began to wonder what the hell she was doing. It wasn't unpleasant, but I had had this type of examination done a few times before and this was completely different.

"I need to milk out your Prostate." Olivia said, apparently reading my mind.

"Oh. OK." I grunted as she pressed in again. Then I felt her other hand between my legs, she grasped my hanging penis and milked it downward a few strokes. Looking down, I saw she had a little cup, a spurt of fluid came out and into it.

She removed her finger, stripped off the glove and looked in the little paper cup.

"You can get up now, sit on the edge of the table, here are some tissues." She told me. Then she went over to the counter, picked up a light and inspected the fluid in the cup.

"Good, I don't see any signs of blood or anything abnormal, it's nice and clear. But your Prostate is mildly enlarged."

"What do I do about that?" I asked her, sitting on the edge of the table and tugging the gown down to cover myself.

"We will check the blood test results, we will draw those in a few minutes and see how your PSA count comes out. If that is good then maybe we can just have you do exercises that can help. Sexual activity is good for the Prostate, too." She gave me another big grin.

"OK. But I don't have a...." I answered.

"Wife? Yes, I see. That can be a problem. It's a shame, I think we could cure a lot of mild cases like yours if...." She smiled and turned to the computer sitting on a nearby desk.

I stood up, figuring we were all done.

"I want to get an EKG, might as well. Medicare pays for it. Oh, and do you mind giving me a sperm sample?" She was busy now typing notes into a computer.

"Uhh...I guess. How do you want me to....?"

"Oh, I can assist with that, we need a urine sample, too." She was still typing.

"Assist with that?".. I thought.

Then she got up and went to the cabinet, pulled out a little glass sample jar. I had seen those before. I stood up, expecting to be sent to the rest room.

She reached out and lifted my gown, my cock was almost back down to normal. She tucked the top of the glass jar under the end of my cock, slid my foreskin back again.

"Go ahead."

"Uhhh...." I managed.

"Go ahead, it's all right."

Giving up, I relaxed and in short order managed to dribble enough in there to almost fill the jar.

"You can finish up across the hall." She told me, pointing. Then she put a cap on the jar. I went across the hall, painfully aware of my bare ass hanging out but there was no one in the hall.

I finished up and went back to the little room.

"OK. Let's see. Sperm sample now, are you ready?"

"I guess." I wasn't much in the mood to be beating my meat right in front of her, and I could see no signs at all that she planned to leave.

"Hop on the table and lay back." Olivia said.

I did as she told me.

She set another sample jar on the table beside me, then she jerked the gown up to my waist. My cock was limp now, she reached out with her gloved hand and just started to stroke me.

"You don't mind if I assist, do you? We get a much better sample this way."

I wasn't minding too much, to be honest. She was working me firmly, it took a bit but I felt myself begin to erect.

"There we go!" She said with a grin as I started to firm up.

"Here, let me stimulate you a bit more." Her fingers went down underneath my testicles, she began to lightly rub me with one hand while firmly stroking me with the other. Just as I began to climax, she picked up the jar and caught the streams of sperm. Then she used her thumb and forefinger to milk me out completely. She let go, looked in the cup.

"Not bad at all for an older male, and you erected pretty good." She seemed happy with the results.

I sat up, in a bit of surprise. I had never run into any doctor like this. But then she was a nurse, not a doctor.

"OK. I want you to go two doors down, my nurse will draw the blood for the tests, then we do the EKG, then all done for today. You can put your pants on but keep the gown." She left and I pulled on my shorts and pants.

I went down the hall, the nurse sitting there was about 30, and cute. She had me sit in a chair with my arm on the table while she drew three vials of blood.

"How do you like Olivia?" She asked me.

"I like her just fine." I answered.

"Everybody says that." She gave me a grin, put the vials in a container and led me down the hall to another room.

She hooked up the wires, ran the EKG tests quickly.

"You can get dressed now, then come out to my station and I will book your followup."

"Followup?" I asked.

"Yes, she will want to go over all the test results with you, plus we will need another sperm sample to use as a comparison." She grinned.

"Oh. OK. What does the doctor need those for?" I asked.

"They are looking for blood, bacteria, things like that."

"Oh. I see." I really didn't, but what the hell.

"Olivia is too busy sometimes, so if it's all right either I or one of the other nurses can....assist." She smiled.

I grinned at her.

"Fine with me."

I left with all of the papers she gave me, next appointment time in hand.

This was going to be a very successful clinic, I thought.

Yes. Very successful.