*** Warning: these notes are for personal and private use only ***

Monday, June 1, 2021

From the Desk of Klaus Terrance Corbin, MD

Notes:

• Patient Name: America, United States of
• Nickname: Uncle Sam
• Birth Date: 7/4/1776
• Age: 245-years
• Weight: 60.76 billion collective pounds (<<< possible obesity situation)
• Height: @ 5’ 9”
• Religion: Agnostic but lately leaning towards Christianity
• Health Plan: out-of-pocket

Partial transcript of today’s session:

Dr. Klaus T Corbin: Hello Uncle Sam, welcome back, why don’t you go ahead and take a seat.

America: Wooh, I’m gonna go straight to lying down today, Doc. I could use the rest.

KTC: Oh? Busy week?

A: Every week is busy when you’re the best goddamn country in the world.

KTC: We’ve been over this, Uncle Sam. Right now as a country you’re ranked sixth. Canada’s first. Then Japan, Germany, Switzerland, Australia, then you.

A: Agree to disagree.

KTC: That’s…

A: Anyway, Doc, point is it’s been a tough week. A tough year really, and I’m exhausted.

KTC: Tough in what way?

A: Oh, I don’t know. Since January, I’ve had a questionable election, a deadly insurrection, and an ongoing viral infection.

KTC: That sounds difficult.

A: Plus, upon further reflection, I’m at a political intersection and in need of some big picture redirection.

KTC: Is there a reason you feel the need to rhyme all that?

A: It’s tight, right? Those are lyrics from a cut off my upcoming hip hop release.

KTC: I see.

A: It’s called, “My Country Biz is Thee.” It’s just a concept right now, but that’ll change after I meet up next Thursday with Kanye.

KTC: Talk more about your exhaustion, America. I’m interested in knowing from where all that fatigue stems.

NOTE: patient has unbuckled his belt and has unbuttoned the top button of his pants. They appear to be the same red, white and blue pair he wore the last few weeks, still unlaundered.

A: Well, if I’m being honest, Doc, it feels like I’m getting old and falling apart.

KTC: How so?

A: My entire infrastructure feels out of shape and outdated. My bridges and interstates and social systems are starting to crumble. I’m short of breath all the time because I’m breathing in a lot of carbon rich air.

KTC: I see. Has this affected your interpersonal relationships?

A: Oh yeah. Since the pandemic, my hourly workers have been bitching to me nonstop about how dependent my economy is on them, and that’s scaring the shit out of my rich folks. I’m just tired of it all. You want any of this?

NOTE: Patient has pulled out his flask, which contains what smells like bourbon.

KTC: No thank you.

A: Suit yourself, Doc. It’s good stuff, though. Made it myself at my old Kentucky home.

KTC: Let’s talk about your drinking for a second, Uncle Sam.

A: Oh, come off it, Doc, I’m 244 years old. I can drink booze if and whenever I please.

KTC: Talk about why you need to drink right now.

A: You mean in this room with you? Hah. That’s simple. This therapy crap, no offense, makes me anxious.

KTC: In what way?

A: Admitting all this … stuff. Exposing my weaknesses. Having you judge me as a country. It puts me on edge and the bourbon takes that edge right off. Always has. That and the weed, but I figured you’d shit a brick if I lit one up in here.

NOTE: The mustard on patient’s clothing is still moist and staining the couch. Have Claudia do another vinegar scrub.

KTC: Did your parents drink?

A: Eh. They’re English, so mostly cups of tea and pints of lager.

KTC: How would you say that affected them as parents?

A: Made them controlling assholes. Shit, they were still charging me rent, even when I had already completely moved out and got my own place. That started a HUGE fight between us.

KTC: Are you concerned that your drinking is having that same effect on you?

A: Nah. Drinking makes me less of an asshole. Believe me, I don’t do sober well.

KTC: You know that for a fact?

A: Hell yeah, Doc. I actually tried to stop drinking once. At the start of 1920. Only lasted thirteen years.

KTC: Talk about that period of your life.

A: What’s to talk about, it sucked.

KTC: You mean being sober was difficult for you?

A: Ha! Who was sober? Not me. There was still plenty of booze around if you knew where to look. Buddy of mine made gin in his basement out of dandelions and battery acid. Stuff had a kick that would burn a hole in your throat. Literally.

KTC: But didn’t you just say that you had stopped drinking for 13 years?

A: You’re not listening, Doc. I said I TRIED to stop drinking. Big difference. Turns out drinkers gotta drink and someone’s gonna serve ‘em. Might as well be me. Speaking of which, you sure you don’t want a swig? Feels weird to drink alone.

Note: Patient has pulled out a second flask, this one larger than the first.

KTC: No thank you. In fact, I would prefer it if you didn’t drink at all during these sessions.

A: Ha! And I would prefer it if you had some live music and a heated swimming pool in here. What’s your point?

KTC: You said that prohibitive period of your life “sucked.” What does that mean, exactly?

A: Google it, doc. Those thirteen years sucked. Murderous gangsters ruled the day and alcohol never really went away. It just went underground and someone else was making all the money from it instead of me. Sucked. Plus, a lot of people died from bullet wounds and drinking poisonous liquor.

KTC: Uncle Sam, it’s my understanding that you actually did a lot of that poisoning yourself.

A: Eh, let’s not get caught up in the deets, Doc. We all do things we regret. Am I right?

KTC: So that’s why not drinking “sucked,” as you put it?

A: Also didn’t help that my stocks went to hell right in the middle of all that.

KTC: Hm.

A: There’s that “Hm” of yours, Doc. What?

KTC: It’s just an observation I’ve had. Would you like to hear it?

A: Oh, do tell, Doc, I’m all ears.

Note: Patient has taken off his shoes and socks and is now massaging his bare feet.

KTC: Uncle Sam, I’ve noticed that quite often you tend to focus more on money than on people. Why do you think that is?

A: Oh, I don’t know. You ever been broke, Doc?

KTC: Have you?

A: Hell yeah, I have. Shit. In the beginning, right after I first moved out from my parent’s place, I didn’t have dick to my name. Didn’t even have a name, technically. Everyone just called me “The Colonies” or “The New World” on account of me discovering a bunch of new land.

KTC: But weren’t there already people there?

A: Nope.

KTC: Really?

A: None that we could find. I swear. Believe me, if we had seen even one white person there, we would have totally asked for permission to settle in.

KTC: I see.

A: Point is, I started out with nothing but a few guns and the willingness to use them to get whatever I wanted from whatever weaklings I could find. We were so broke back then we ate squirrels.

KTC: I’d like to talk more about that part of your life but I’m afraid we’ve run out of time.

A: No worries, Doc, I gotta blow anyway, got studio time scheduled. Gonna record a few more tracks for “Biz is Thee.” Snoop Dogg’s doing a verse.

KTC: We can talk more about that next week.

A: I know, I know, don’t let the door hit me where the good Buddha split me.

KTC: You’re a Buddhist now?

A: Eh, just dabbling. So far they’re way too anti-war for my taste. Does make me want to shave my head, though.

KTC: Have a good week, Uncle Sam.

A: You too, Doc. Maybe loosen up and get laid. I sure plan to.

Final Notes, Post-Session:

• Patient has begun to share more personal insights but remains in denial about critical facts; pursue his version of the truth
• Patient exhibits convenient retrograde amnesia when faced with inconvenient memories; re-read Zinn’s A People’s History 
• There has already been considerable weight gain by patient; go over diet tendencies 

Personal Notes:

• In the three weeks I’ve been seeing this patient, I don’t believe he has showered once and it now smells like an alcoholic smoker lives in my office
• Have Claudia cover the couch with thick plastic