In the first grade, I learned my ABC’s and how, when interchanged in combinations with the other twenty-three letters, they formed words used to communicate. Like all of you, this was not a challenging task to learn.
Because you are an exclusive group of friends and we share a special part of each other, I will let you in on a little secret. This secret is something I’m proud to declare. I’m proud I’m not proud I’m proud; or something like that.
Today, I signed up for Medicare!
I’m sure you are thinking to yourself, “he’s much too young to be doing this.”
To you, I say, “I know, right?”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”
Don’t get me wrong, I am proud of the “right” to sign up for Medicare. By golly, I worked hard for this benefit. I’m not backing up or ashamed to say I deserve it.
The very second I pushed the button on my computer to sign up, my phone exploded with phone calls. Robo message after robo message asking me to apply for supplemental insurance.
E-mail after e-mail filled my inbox of offers, just for me.
So anyway, where was I going with this? Oh yeah, I signed up for Medicare.
So just to get the record straight, I’m not sixty-five! Yet. But in two months, I will be. My friends and I are throwing a big birthday party soon. They are joining me on this momentous occasion.Watch for pictures on Facebook!
Anyway, I’m not sure about this Medicare thing. So, there is part A. If I got this right, this covers hospital and is free. I know… nothing is free. We worked to earn this, right?
And then there is part B. Now this one is for doctors and it is not free.
Then there is part C. Not sure what this one is but it doesn’t cost.
Last, there is part D which is for prescriptions. It costs.
So ABCD. I’m back to learning my ABC’s. Full Circle.
Nobody asked me, but why couldn’t hospital be part H? And doctor be part D? Supplemental part S. And prescription drugs part P? Wouldn’t that be so much easier to remember?
Now my advisor blows my mind. He says we are not through yet. He says I must choose an insurance to close the donut hole.
What? Are you kidding me? What is a donor hole and why would I ever find myself there?
Furthermore, he says my first option is A. He then goes to B. By the time he gets to option C, I’m all over him.
“Now A is hospital, right?”
“No, don’t get OPTION A confused with PART A,” he says, a little louder than I feel comfortable, insinuating I was old or something and couldn’t hear him.
“So, I could choose option A to cover part A which is free to me?” I shout back at him. “Why do I need to pay you for option A to cover part A if part A is free?”
Idiot thought bubbles appear above both our heads, as he wonders why he ever got into the insurance business.
“When are you taking social security?” he asks, trying to get me off the parts and options.
“Which part? Part A? I ask.
Now I’m just messing with him.
When I was in the first grade, my teacher, Mrs. Brooks, gave the best hugs. She had a special talent of knowing when a confused boy needed a hug.
“Mrs. Brooks, I’m confused. I need a hug!”
I’ve come full circle and need to see my special friend for that hug I desperately need!