There is nothing like meeting with the life insurance guy after a day of teaching to really perk a person up. Considering my own mortality during a half hour appointment session as Dan the Insurance Man goes on about possible cancers, renal failure, car accidents, strokes and possible dismemberment, screams,” Happy Holidays!” Having a stroke would pay out at about $25,000 so I’ve got that to look forward to, but not until January 1.
Dan the Insurance Man gleefully insists that I think about:
- All the car wrecks in my future
- The various cancers that my friends have/had
- The fact that 3 of my 4 grandparents are dead and that all 3 needed caretakers towards the end and that my remaining grandparent wouldn’t survive without his.
- My family is not prone to cancer, but we are prone to bat shit crazy
- Appendages do accidentally get hacked off sometimes—Dan and I share a laugh over my various relatives that have done just that
- I can’t see without my glasses and my cholesterol is high
- I’ve been on a pay freeze for like two years and can’t really afford to take more out of my paycheck, but as my deceased Gma said, “Getting old sucks.”
- Ambulance rides probably aren’t as fun as they sound
Thinking about my future deterioration and demise is too adult, too grown up. But the reality is that I am blankety-blank years old. I don’t have kids. I probably won’t have kids. I don’t have a significant other. I probably won’t have a significant other. So until the cats learn how to drag around oxygen tanks, count pills and change Depends, I should most likely plan on some manner of hired caretaker.