Birthdays, ice makers and Medicare?

“I grabbed a pile of dust, and holding it up, foolishly asked for as many birthdays as the grains of dust, I forgot to ask that they be years of youth. ”
― Ovid

(do not buy this. . .)

(Part I / because anything dealing with the Government has to have its own part. . . as its too lengthy a topic to be included with any other thought. . .)

Did you know that just about a year before one turns 65, one begins to receive an onslaught of mailers, adverts and junk mail regarding Medicare? And not that I would know about that–I will merely be turning 55 later this year, not 65. However I am receiving an onslaught of junk from AARP but I digress and that is for another story.

It is my dear sweet husband (he felt badly I painted him in such a bad light over that whole anniversary debacle and my near death experience with the yellow jackets of which he basically exposed me to—digressing. . .) who is turning (actually just turned last week) 65. . .
but shhhhh, don’t tell anyone because he really doesn’t want anyone to know or to be reminded because one never turns an age such as 65, that’s just for parents and grandparents. . .hummmmmmmm

And as he is not one for taking the time to know or learn about things such as Medicare, Medicaid, Obamacare, AARP, IRA, or RIP. . .as he’s consumed with the owning, operating and managing a small town retail business, trivial matters such as insurance, Federal, State and Local matters plus medical mumbo jumbo, etc, is left to me, the one who’s suppose to be able to figure such out while making perfect sense of it all.

Are you freaking kidding me!!?
I still have a hard time figuring out decimals and percents and now I’ve got to decipher something like Medicare?! Oh dear Lord!!!

The one fact I had gleaned from the tidal wave of Medicare mail was that I had to get him registered or so said our health insurance. As a teacher for the majority of my life, our insurance is what I carried through the school, which is in turn issued through the state. So it was the state insurance folks, who joined the litany of those mailing out sign up reminders, which basically gave me a small heads up.

Question.

Why does the Government feel the need to remind us that we’re reaching some kind of magic number on the age scale?
Why did they choose 65 as that magic age?
I thought 50 was the new 30. . .wouldn’t that make 85 the now magic Government age number on their magic age scale?
Why, if they seem to know you’re turning 65, do you have to sign up?
Can’t they just automatically sign you up, since they seem to know you’re supposed to be signing up anyway?
And why do we have to sign up?
Why is there no opting out?
No choice?
Didn’t somebody run on the platform of Choice?
Oh, my bad, that was Change–and we see where that’s all going. . .digress, digress, digress. . .
What happens if you didn’t want to sign up?
What’s wrong with the insurance you already have, that is if you have insurance and you like it?
Back to the change / choice business. . .

So many questions and so few answers.
This whole sign up but no opting out and being told to sign up sounds oddly familiar—
. . .use that generic foreign accent when thinking this. . .”Ve have vays of making you sign. . .”

Ok, so we keep getting these reminder cards from every insurance company under the sun including AARP, the NRA, the Democrats, the Republicans, the Tea drinkers, Starbucks, as if anyone and everyone is in countdown mode.
You have 6 months before your 65th birthday to sign up
You have 3 months before your 65th birthday to sign up
You have 1 month before your 65th birthday, you better as hell sign up—
Well maybe it wasn’t exactly stated like that but you catch the gist.

I made a little file folder.
I tried sorting out the real reminders and information from the fake adverts and scams.
I called our insurance company.
I went on line.
I pretended I was him. . .shhhh, don’t tell, it’s what wives do who have been married as long as I have.
I got him signed up.
Or so I guess.

Do you want part A, B, C, or D?
Oooo, choice. Now you’re talking. . .
You need part A and B but maybe not C.
If you get part C then you have part A and part B but now maybe you need D?
Maybe you need to add part D, that way you’ll have every part you ever thought you’d need but does that now exclude A?
What about Social Security.
What about Social Security?
It’s still there, right?
Will you draw Social Security?
Do you have existing insurance.
Do you work?
Do you want to work?
Does your spouse have existing insurance?
Do you have a spouse?

WHAT???!!!

Use this card until the other card comes.
What other card?
Use your old card with the new card.
What new card?
What old card?
Destroy those cards and now just use this card.
Which card?

WHAT??!!

A week passed.
A very official looking letter came addressed to my husband.
I opened it.
Shhhhhh, don’t tell, remember that’s what wives do.
You owe $325 for your medicare.

WHAT???

He comes home from work.
I slowly push the letter over in his direction.
“What’s this?” he quips
It appears to be a bill.
“A bill, a bill for what?”
Medicare.
WHAT?!!
expletive, expletive, expletive
YOU MEAN YOU HAVE TO PAY FOR MEDICARE??!!
Apparently so.
“This is a one time fee right?”
I don’t think so. . .
EXPLETIVE EXPLETIVE EXPLETIVE
“What do you you mean you have to pay?
We already pay for insurance, as it’s taken out of your check every month right?
Correct.
“You mean I’ve got to pay on top of that payment???” Double insurance?”
Apparently so.
“Well if that’s the case, I don’t want it.
Just sign me out.
I don’t want that.
I’m not paying for that.
What we have is just fine”

I don’t think it works that way. I don’t think you have a choice (I’m thinking maybe somebody out there might want to think about running on the choice slogan)
“The [expletive] I don’t, I’m not paying this.”
Then they’ll just come get you (you know who “they” are, right?)
“Well this isn’t right.”
“You need to call someone.”
“If this is the case, that much more a month and we’ll never [expletive] retire!”
“Are they crazy?” (Again, you know who “they” are right?)
“We can’t afford this.”
“Write about that on that blob of yours”
That would be bloG
“That’s what I said BLOB!”
Yes, your’e right— no time to disagree

“Is your dad paying?”
(What isn’t my 86 year old dad not paying for?!)
“I thought a person signed up and Medicare was something free, something the Government did for “seniors”, not that I’m a senior. . .”

Somewhere far away voices are laughing as in the joke he just made about the Government doing something free.
That’s a good one.

Stay tuned for part II tomorrow –remember there’s a story about an ice-maker in here somewhere.