Wednesday, July 18, 2007

PreMeds and Insurance Policies

So, if the insurance sales agent tells me, the other insurance sales agent, that I have to have a premed exam before I can sell myself insurance, does that mean that I have the option of not having the premed and just buying the dollar amount that will get me out of having to pee in a cup and having my arm jabbed? I'm the agent! I should have a say in this. Then again, I'm the insured too - and I have NO say whatsoever. I'm taking the risk, I'm binding the risk - bring on the needle.

The woman who came to my office today to do the exam didn't have to wonder for very long who it was that was having the premed done - I had the sleeve rolled up on my shirt and that smirky little "don't-hurt-me" look on my face - God, I hate needles. Is it really worth a poke in the arm to insure that my kids actually go to college should I die? I probably won't die! I'll probably have to pay for their tuition through my nose rather than my death benefit - odds are, mortality tables are, everything is against me dying at my age being in the shape that I'm in. However, this morning ON MY WAY TO THE OFFICE, I was nearly ran over by a WERNER truck that decided to exit to the right rather than use the rest of the highway he was on - just about took me out before the policy was even written and paid for! So, I guess barring bad health, cancer, disease and/or war - I could be squashed in my car like anyone else in this guy's way. (I got his number, I've already filed an online complaint - I roll that way!)

So, there is good news - I have great veins. Yes...I've been flattered before by doctors, nurses, vampires - you name it, anyone wanting my red stuff has NO problem finding it. Must be living right or something. "Hey, look, that's a fat one!" Well, at least she was only talking about my vein. I would have had to deck her in the mouth if she was talking about my butt or something. I have taken painstaking months on end to get rid of my end! Oh, and that was one of the things I had to answer for on the exam too. "Have you lost more than 15 pounds over the last 12 months?" I guess they want to be sure you're not infested with a virus - I had to answer in the affirmative and then give a detailed essay type statement concerning my weight loss program, the results, and what prompted my decision - was it for health or vanity? Both! Who loses weight just because they're suppose to? Please.

Once the blood was drawn, and drawn, and drawn some more - I asked her if I would be receiving any of the results from the tests. My answer was no. I asked her if my agent would be able to review my results. The answer was yes. Ha! Got her on that one! I'll have to wait on the test results, but she was able to dip a little pH stick or something into one of the vials and tell me that my cholesterol was doing well otherwise it would have turned blue or darker green. I said a little thank you under my breath to the Quaker Oats guy. I've been eating those Raspberry Strudel breakfast bars buddy! I'm in the know on that one. She'll tell my agent (me) my results on exact numbers, and I'll do the little dance. Speaking of dancing. She had me waiting for over 30 minutes after drinking 30 ounces of water in order to get the right MIX for my urine sample. Seems she was unaware of the 3 cups of coffee and 16 ounces of orange juice I had drunken earlier in the morning - hell, she didn't get to my office until 10. I'm on the 2nd pot by then! I stop at Starbucks, load up, get to the office and make a fresh pot of House and you know - drink!

I did however have to admit to having broken all of the do-not-eat-before-the-test rules because I have hypoglycemia and I would have died, and being uninsured it would have been a bad risk for me to take as an agent - and a bad thing for me to do as the insured as well. I told her that I had my little breakfast bar, my 16 ounces of orange juice and I even told the truth about the coffee. I know that's why she made me wait - she could make me wait, so she did...these are cruel people we're dealing with. Vampires of the Lighted Hours as they like to call themselves - they have a union. So she marked me down on her paper as a rule breaker, and we continued the torture.

Because she's as vicious as a cat in a bathtub - she made me stand on a weight scale. I could have lied to her and said I was 150 pounds, what's the difference? (Well, about 9 pounds actually according to her damn scale!) I'm at least 5'7" according to her measuring tape and if she had let me keep my shoes on I could have explained the extra pound or two that I was planning on keeping a secret. I tried the "I'm wearing heavy clothes" trick, but she marked down 165 just to piss me off! Then she smiled, erased it and marked 159....and she laughed. We both laughed, it was a moment. I was able to look into her mouth, and couldn't find any pointy shaped K-9 fangs, so I gave up on the whole vampire thing - and I asked her name. She was sweet about it - Carolyn. She's married, has kids, a dog - and then she told me her deepest darkest secret - we weigh the exact same! Only her weight wasn't going on some God forsaken paper that would be filed for eternity marking her medical investigative bureau information sheet for life, and mine was!

Well, next year I'll just have to explain the next 15 to 30 pounds that I lose that's all - and this time I'll tell her straight up that it was for VANITY! That's right, I went there!

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