A young adult (anyone under fifty is young to me) entered our church a few Sundays ago. He was stooped over. He informed folks he’d apparently injured his back. He didn’t know how. In fact, it was surmised by him and the crowd around the back problem might well be the too soft mattress he’d slept on while on vacation the last week.
I watched him struggle across the room. I kind of shook my head in unbelief. This guy was suppose to be a former jock. This fellow played ball in the church yard with the kids. And here he was all bent over with his head bent down, a hand resting on the back part of his hip, more or less moaning as he “struggled” about the church.
I couldn’t help but say to myself, “Self, would you look at that sissy. I don’t know what he thinks going on, but I’m not impressed. I get up every morning with that kind of pain in my back. But through determination and pure dedication I usually am able to straighten up by nine in the morning.” I thought about telling him how this temporary discomfort he was experiencing would, in a decade or two, become a ever present companion to his living.
Pain! Let me tell you about pain. Let me tell you about, not only the pain in my back, but the pain in my knees, the pain in my joints, and the pain that is wrapped around the pain of my maturity. I am a living, walking, breathing testimony to the fact that growing old is not for wimps.
That’s why I’m so grateful for insurance. I’m one of the really blessed in this nation. I’ve got insurance. It, along with that other badge of senior citizen status - Medicare, makes the years of my aging much more tolerable.
Please understand. I’m still active enough. I can hike with the best of them I actually can climb mountains. And year before last I challenged my cardiologist to a foot race up the stairs of Emory University Hospital. Boy was that doctor out-of-shape. I still can do these things. It’s just I do them more slowly, with much more pain, and with a much more extended time of recovery.
Knowing my delicate condition and knowing I cannot always be the strapping senior athlete I now am, I am fully aware of the blessing of my insurance.
But in this day and age it gets complicated. The wife got one of those pre-paid cards from the insurance company. You know, basically she gave them a bunch of money and bet them we could spend it all only on things they approve in a year. Sounded good at the time. But there are complications.
Once the end of the given year approaches it pays to be aware of how much money is still on that card. Last year we ended up with quite a bit. My wife went to the drug store and purchased a bunch of stuff. The insurance company lost the bet.
There is one problem, however. Yesterday I experienced another complication of advancing age, heart burn or indigestion, call it what you will. I went to the cabinet and retrieved a bottle of the antacids from the collection. Goodness I need to eat a lot more spicy food if I’m going to devour all these bottles before the expiration date.
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