What to Do to Retire Successfully. Martin B. Goldstein

      Many people do stray into nightmarish situations by allowing their fantasies to overrule their good common sense. God knows what difficulties I would have run into if I had thrown caution to the wind and proceeded to spend my savings on a vessel I could ill afford. I probably would never have made it to retirement and would not be writing this book now. Whatever pleasure I would have experienced might have been drowned in the difficulties encountered out on the open sea.

      Each year many new entrepreneurs go bankrupt. Thousands of workers who dream of being self-employed leave their jobs and go out on their own. Those who are fully prepared and perform adequate due diligence have a chance for success. Others, who through lack of education or preparation or both begin either under-capitalized or over-capitalized, are usually doomed to fail. Having a dream is a good thing, if it’s a possible dream. As with Don Quixote, impossible dreams lead to failure. Depending on the age of the individual or the amount of the loss, a business failure can obliterate the dream of any retirement.

      Appreciate the value of frugality in choosing a lifestyle, if retirement is a goal when one no longer works at a daily job. More wild schemes are prone to fail than to succeed. At a young age one can fail and try again, because time is not yet a major factor, but at an advanced age time is precious.

      BURNOUT

      As I brought up earlier, the greatest determinant in regard to retirement readiness is self-awareness. The recognition of when one has reached his or her limit with a vocation is vital to knowing when it is time to quit and move on.

      In my own life I have had several such epiphanies. As an undergraduate I trained to be a pharmacist, but after several years behind pharmacy counters I realized I would never be satisfied filling out prescriptions ordered by others. I wanted to be the physician making the diagnosis and writing the prescriptions. I wanted the responsibility of issuing the orders for the care and therapy of the patient. I consider pharmacy a noble profession and cherish it for having given me the ability to work and earn enough to pay my medical school tuition fees. However, I wanted to go on to study medicine.

      Later I had a career choice to make. Throughout my medical school training I had envisioned myself becoming an internist and was sure it was my future to practice internal medicine, so I declined a prized surgical residency with the assurance of a partnership in a lucrative practice. However, during my internship I reassessed myself, my desires and abilities and determined I was best suited to the practice of psychiatry.

      Upon completing my psychiatric residency, I was offered junior partnerships in the practices of two of the busiest psychiatrists in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Although this would mean less start-up costs, with shared expenses, I declined these invitations. I knew I would find the greatest gratification in building my own practice and doing it my way. So, despite having meager savings, I went out on my own.

      For twenty-five years I lectured as a professor of psychiatry at a medical school and was invited to lecture at prominent universities. I became a leading candidate to become the chairman of my department, the position I had been groomed for by the retiring chairman. After careful soul searching I determined I was not cut out for the politics of academia. Soon I left both my clinical and lecturing activities at the medical college to devote myself wholly to my private practice, a decision I have never regretted.

      My care of patients, both in office psychotherapy sessions and inpatient settings at hospitals and geriatric centers, became my prime concern and my great pleasure and honor of service. Teaching is a meaningful endeavor and I am indebted for the opportunity I was afforded, but attempting to heal and mitigate pain and suffering was my true calling.

      After a number of years, like many practitioners who find the business of their profession overwhelming the desired aspects of their labors, with less time to devote to the work they love and more needed for administration, I began to tire of the interference of insurance companies and the loss of patient confidentiality. When insurance officials’ meddling began to deny adequate patient care, I knew it was time to call it quits.

      I was unable to adapt to the new way of doing things: placing the best care of a patient secondary to the whim of an insurance decision. This is not what I signed up for. I grew weary of the pressure placed on me by officials to cut corners in administering care. So I severed my relations with those who caved in to the rationers of care and reached deep within myself and realized I was burned out. What I loved dearly had been taken from me and it could not be regained, so I decided that after fifty years of being involved with the delivery of health care, it was time to retire.

      ADJUSTMENT

      In all honesty, if I couldn’t financially afford to retire at the time I did, because I no longer could abide by the rules that were forcing me to compromise my integrity, I would have had to adjust to doing things against my conscience. How many of you readers have to do just that? Having to comply with commands from supervisors that you know are just not right, or even absolutely wrong, to make some deadline, meet a quota or keep within budget? That is why it is so important that you are financially secure later in life so that you cannot be bullied into sacrificing your integrity for a paycheck. Money cannot buy happiness and only in a pet store can it buy love, but it surely can give you a sense of freedom and independence.

      The thought of having to compromise my principles to appease some official of an insurance company making a huge salary while patients are being deprived of adequate care raised my ire. If I had to do things that way I knew I would have trouble sleeping at night.

      PASSION

      It’s easy to sense the passion in the words I use to express the vehemence I feel toward those who forced me to leave a practice I adored. You see, I never wanted to stop working at my labor of love. Fortunately, I had planned for retirement in case it became a necessity, but I never really expected it to happen. I feel as though I was forced out; it’s as if I were fired from my job. Therefore, I can relate to anyone who has actually been fired against his will. I was given a type of a pink slip too. I know how it feels. I can commiserate.

      When you have devoted yourself to a cause or a company for many years as I had and suddenly find out that you no longer belong, through no fault of your own but because they changed the rules, it’s painful to realize the game is being played at a lower level. There I was, in my clinical prime and fueled by years of experience, forced to retire because I wouldn’t lower my standards. I hope that all of you out there who want to excel at what you do, if you are called upon to compromise your integrity, have gained the wherewithal and the courage to thumb your noses at mediocrity.

      IMPORTANCE

      Respect what you do. An honest job, no matter how menial, fulfills a purpose. However, if you don’t feel your work is important to you, you are in the wrong line of work, no matter how glamorous it may seem to others.

      Many years ago I was discovered to have a fine tenor voice and offered a scholarship to train with a famous vocal coach. I sang for a number of years at his studio and he obtained some roles for me in local productions, until it came time for me to make a career choice. Did I wish to make a career in music or pursue a life in health care? Among the most important factors which swayed my decision was my need to feel the importance of my work. I wanted to do something that mattered. Finally, I decided that to help others in their time of need and disability was more important, in my estimation, than entertaining an audience with song. Feeling important to yourself is crucial. It makes you feel as though you count. You are a contributor, a useful member of society.

      Losing the work that is important to you, especially when it is ripped from you through no fault of your own, because of some ill-advised decision of a superior, change of company policy or government miscalculation, can be agonizing and demoralizing if you have no backup