Written By Sandra C. Liebler
When at last we are sure you’ve been properly pilled, then a few paper forms must be properly filled so that you and your heirs may be properly billed.
—from You’re Only Old Once, by Dr. Seuss
Those who had children in the last 30 or 40 years will recall the unerring baby detection system implemented by Olan Mills portrait studios, by which they bombarded the new parents with numerous offers to photograph the latest infant and to continue to document his or her growth for years to come. Well, evidently those same baby spies found subsequent employment with AARP, which noted my approach to the Big 5-Oh some years back. AARP was kind enough to send me, over and over, all kinds of helpful literature on services and various insurance options.
Now, as I approach my 65th birthday and eligibility for Medicare, I have received an avalanche of urgent mailings that warn they are “time sensitive” and remind me that I need to “open immediately, do not delay, respond today” and sign up for lots of insurance options before my window of opportunity expires. How kind that so many people are trying to help me during this confusing time. Several mailings had attached postcards that only needed my full name and birthdate and those of my spouse, to be sent to an entity only identified with upper case letters (RUCRZY, etc) and mailed to post office boxes in remote states. I may be a senior citizen but even I have heard of identity theft. DUH…
Confused by all these caveats and kindnesses, I consulted local Medicare guru Margaret Mondul, who is actually able to read and decipher insurance jargon. It turns out the government gift of Medicare is one with strings attached. In addition to having to give back roughly $100 a month from my SSA income for “Part B” (Sign up for it now or lose the option!), I also need a “supplement”—most running well over $100 a month. I have a choice of (I am not making this up) Plan A, B, C, D, F, G, K, L, M or N. I followed the crowd and chose the popular Plan F. Plus, I must sign up for a “Part D” prescription plan, which has additional cost—even though I am currently not taking any prescription medications. I am told that if I do not choose a Part D now I will be penalized for perpetuity at some percentage per year.
Having retired several years ago and kept my excellent work-related health care plan, all this comes as something of a shock. I am no longer eligible for that prior coverage once I turn 65, and the Medicare that I earned from all those years of work is something of a booby prize, costing me considerably more than my current coverage and paying for a lot less. Want dental
care? Eye exams? Chiropractic care? Forget it, unless you want to enhance your supplement by paying extra.
Despite childhood sweets, college drinking and typical American consumption of pizza and fast foods, I am enjoying undeservedly good health, not to be taken for granted. So, I have made my choices, signed up for all the necessary plans and now have three new cards to carry—at least one of which has my SSA number on it. (Weren’t we told not to carry that number anywhere upon our person, including on our driver’s license?) But I believe I am now adequately insured, at least for the rest of 2012. Late in the fall, the competition for my favor will begin again in my new “open enrollment” period.
The recycling man has probably suffered back strain from removing all the insurance-related literature on a weekly basis, and now I have received additional helpful information from the plans that I chose! Plus I recently received a telephone call from someone with the supplement plan, who insisted on getting my birthdate “to make sure she was talking to the correct person.” She asked whether I had everything I needed and whether I had any questions about the plan (which is not yet in effect) and ended with a gentle reminder that the premium would soon be due.
So…assured that I am adequately covered, within the allowable time frame and with more than enough information, perhaps I can turn my attention to enjoying life to the fullest, like those “silver foxes” pictured in magazines as they bike and drink wine and make romance while touting the joys of seniorhood.
