I dreamt we really cared about our earthly home. I thought I was struggling to sleep, but my watch said it was time to get up. So, was I dreaming or longing?
I do know I was remembering the days of WWII when we were all dedicated to fighting for a just cause. It was scary, but it was magnificent – flattening our cans for re-use, counting food ration coupons to be used in the most efficient way, planning limited driving trips to make maximum use of gas coupons, drawing our black shades at night so as not to help the enemy find us, watching Times News before the movies (two for the price of one), singing patriotic songs, and “When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again” as the end approached, knowing we were fighting for the freedom of those who were suffering invasion by cruel forces. (It was only in later years I became aware of our own cruelty in turning away refuges and depriving our Japanese citizens of freedom and property.)
We were dedicated in spite of the fact that we were pretty sure no bombs would drop on us. We had the ability to see that the problem was bigger than our own private domain.
Well, I wasn’t driving and purchasing groceries – too young for that. But I remember. My best friends father was the Air Raid Warden for our neighborhood. Mostly it was his job to walk the area and be sure no light shone through the windows. He often allowed my best friend Hallie to carry out that duty, so the two of us walked the neighborhood in the dark together. (No one worried about our being kidnapped or raped.)
We were in the 4-H club, one duty being to spot for enemy airplanes. It’s a good thing none attacked, because I couldn’t tell the difference between a flying mosquito and an airplane, say nothing of distinguishing between friend and enemy. Fortunately Hallie’s vision was more acute.
We worried about my brother and my brother-in-law as they were off to war. My big sister volunteered in the nursery school that made it possible for mom’s to build war equipment. (disbanded at the end of the war so mom could be sent back home “where she belonged.” More on that in a subsequent post.)
Magnificent? Yes. We were dedicated to a life affirming cause. This morning in my half dreaming state I imagined how wonderful it would be if we all fought as hard now for the earth – the home we all share. I thought of how we would be free of reliance on foreign – or even domestic – oil if we had pursued programs begun in the Carter administration. How glorious it would be if we recognized the dangers and mobilized to fight them.
And then I remembered my own frequent childhood bronchial colds, gasping for breath – wheezing, they called it. I wasn’t allowed to ride in the rumble seat in the teacher’s car who drove us to kindergarten because I might catch a cold. And then I thought again of how magnificent it would be if we cared enough about our atmosphere to spare so many children the asthma lifestyle marked by fear of death and reliance on inhalers, carried like we used to carry pens and pencils in our pockets.
Yes, I dreamt I dwelt in a world that cared.
I have other posts ready in my head to be set down on paper, like “A Healthy Woman is a Crazy Person,” but this is new and, it seems, more urgent.
Several of us have recently had the same problem. If you are not on medicare, you may still want to know this for friends and family who are.
Recently on the notice from my physician to go in for my annual checkup, I ended up getting a Medicare rejection for the $343,00 they will be billing me. Many phone calls later, to many people, I have established the following “facts.” As far as I can tell, this is a new (and personally expensive) ruing.
When I called the medicare number, I was greeted with the cheerful announcement that we are now entitled to a yearly wellness visit. Here’s what that means. (Please do your own explorations to double check what I’m telling you here) And who knows, maybe it varies from state to state.
As my source said, the yearly wellness visit is like a hands free car wash. It is a no hands on interview with your doctor who will ask a series of questions like, “Are you able to dress yourself?” (Honest, that’s what she said.) The doctor is not to touch you or measure anything like blood pressure. It’s all talk, and an opportunity to renew your prescriptions.
If she listens to your heart and lungs and takes height, weight, and temperature, you are then billed for a physical which, as indicated above, is very expensive.
I don’t blame the doctor. She doesn’t have to keep up with the latest medicare ruling. She reports what she did, and someone else does the coding. But do beware.
If, on the other hand, you have a headache, or something specific, you can schedule an office visit and she can test you for things that might be related to a headache, but don’t add more stuff that might get it coded as a physical.
Oh yes, you can get one complete physical when you first turn 65. That will be reimbursed.
The next piece is my supplementary insurance which piggy backs on medicare, so they will not reimburse any of the bill either.
So, I’m paying $343.00 to do things most of which I could have done myself – measure hight, weight, temperature, BP. I suppose the good thing is she could prescribe tests, including mammogram, bone density test, and a number of blood tests. I haven’t received word yet, but apparently they are covered.
And, of course, you can’t have the latter tests if they aren’t prescribed by the physician, so I guess I will be paying $343.00 for the piece of paper that goes to the lab so I can have those tests done.
I’ve had a nice relationship with my physician, but I guess I won’t be seeing much more of her. How will I get the bone density test? I guess I have to schedule an office visit to tell her my bones feel like they are getting holes in them.
Am I confused? Yes, and not at all happy with the situation. Fortunately I can afford to pay the bill when it comes, though I will work out a payment plan so they won’t get it all at once.
The people I’m really concerned about are those who can’t afford such a sum. They will get to see a physician only when they are sick. Never mind staying well.
To summarize
When you turn 65 and go on medicare, you can have a thorough physical which will be covered.
After that, you can schedule “office visits” for particular problems. They will probably be covered.
Otherwise, you are entitled to a “yearly wellness visit” which is a hands-off series of questions.
And check your supplemental insurance to see if it will cover annual physicals without pigging backing on Medicare. It will cost you an additional premium.
I’ll be happy to see comments — maybe contributing additional information
My mother taught me to thank people who do nice things, but in this case I often don’t know who you are. Therefore I’m taking this opportunity to thank the following people who have written reviews on amazon.com for “Figs & Pomegranates & Special Cheeses.” It feels good to be noticed, appreciated, and liked. So thanks to the following (by first name only): Mallory, ihales, Leelah, Beverly, Margaret, Joyce, Lindsay, Joan, and Sarah. I hope you folks will get to see this substitute for a hand-written note. (Remember the old days?)
And, while I’m at it, thanks to those who wrote reviews for her earlier version, “Mrs. Job.” Janice, Andrew, harpo, Sarah, Audrey, Dianna, Pat, Sheila, J, Laurie, D.K., Sheila, Pamela, Justine, and Renate.
It’s people like you who make life good.
Happy Labor Day!
I goofed and ordered the less-than-perfect kindle format for “Figs & Pomegranates & Special Cheeses.” Right now I’m trying to get it fixed so I can provide a more perfect version for you.
I was willing to resubmit the whole thing because of an error on page 115, so I’m certainly not going to let my mistake lead to an inferior product now if I can help it.
So please bear with me.
In the meantime, of course, the paperback is available and as close to satisfactory as I can get it.
Thanks
Another blogger just posted this. It’s a moving story, illustrative of the gift of kindness. We humans are capable of great love and generosity.
It puts me in mind of the many needs here at home and throughout the world where people suffer poverty, illness, fear, and hopelessness. We are so good at overlooking massive needs. They seem just too big to handle. What can I do? But when it comes down to the individual, our hearts won’t let us avoid helping.
For the many other bloggers, and people everywhere, who, like me, are sick at heart over the suffering in our world, it seems that one key is letting ourselves see these things as happening to individual people. How would I feel if I knew personally the folks in those shoes — or bare feet? I’ve just been reading “The Tipping Point.” When will we as a society reach the tipping point where enough of us are concerned that we’ll feel our power to help our world — the people in it — the environment we live in?
How soon will it happen that we will overcome inertia, perceived helplessness, and denial to do the wonderful things of which we are potentially capable.
The “No news after noon” policy really works. I still know what’s going on in the world, but I’m not driving myself crazy with nursing it all day. And then, at bedtime, my good-sense-0f-humor niece sends me a summary that goes something like this. “News of the day — same stuff — all bad.” and I end up giggling instead of gagging.
Working? Well, here’s the story. figs & Pomegranates & Special Cheeses is available in both paperback and Kindle form, but they don’t appear on the same page. Yesterday’s project was to get the e-book going. Today was the discovery that you can’t yet “look inside” the paperback, but you can in the Kindle store. Tomorrow’s project will be to find out why both alternatives aren’t listed in the same place.
In the meantime. here’s the link to the paperback version.
And here’s the route to the kindle version.
I just checked and found that Figs & Pomegranates & Special Cheeses is already up on amazon.com, ready for reviews and orders if anyone is so inclined. They tell me it will take a few weeks before the “look inside” feature will be there.
I guess this calls for a celebration. Ready now! Please join me in a big HOORAY!
Thanks
They tell me “Figs & Pomegranates & Special Cheeses” is electronically on its way to amazon.com. Look for it on Thursday, August 28th they said.
I hope we will all discover it then. I’ll believe it when I see it.
My latest health move. I’m cutting myself off the news once noon arrives. It’s just too sleep-disturbing any closer to bedtime. So much horror!
Of course I’m sickened by the awful things happening in other countries – human greed and cruelty. The awful beheading of a dedicated American journalist. The killing and isolating of communities of Christians – and other religions and groups unacceptable to ISIS.
But what keeps me awake is what’s going on right here in the United States. A majority of our citizens wanting to send refugee children back to misery and death. (Not the first time we’ve been so cruel. Check out the refugee ship SS Saint Louis in May-June 1939. And the innocents still imprisoned at Guantanamo. Just for starters.) But this is today. Militarized police becoming judge and jury.
I was naïve as a child and youth – even into adulthood. I really thought the function of the police was to serve the public. I believed “arrest” meant “arrest,” i.e. to stop or prevent crime. Truth be told, I know police for whom that is the mission. But I fear they are out-noised by the killers among us. I honestly thought that when a police officer shot it was intentionally a non-lethal injury intended to prevent further crime/assault. I didn’t understand that the first duty of a cop is to kill and beat folks after they had surrendered – even after they were handcuffed – or locked in a cell.
I didn’t understand that the first duty was to treat protestors as the enemy – to confront them with guns drawn.
I didn’t understand the right of civilians to kill someone because they were scared – that just ringing the doorbell to ask for help is so scary that killing is legitimate. I thought the idea was to retreat to a safe place and call 911. Or worse yet, I didn’t know it’s OK to be scared that maybe the person turning away from a confrontation might be getting a gun out of a car, making it legitimate to shoot him.
I didn’t appreciate the depth of racism that makes someone scary– and therefore the potential object of beating/killing — because he’s black, and blacks are scary. (I try to imagine from my white advantage what it would have been like to love and raise a black son.)
I didn’t understand the apparent right to beat and/or kill a man for being homeless and acting crazy – which no doubt he was.
I didn’t “get” that it’s OK to beat an autistic young man because he has a bulge in his pocket – his colostomy bag.
In fact, I just don’t get the right to beat anyone who is already subdued.
I wonder if those same cops go home at night and complain about people who want to establish sharia law.
I could go on, but I’ve got to read my disturbing e-mail before noon so I can focus on peace and quiet and classical music and my projects for the rest of the day.
Maybe that will help my sleep.
monagustafsonaffinito 