The Examined Life

I’ve yammered about various health issues and concerns in this space previously and y’all have been wonderfully indulgent. As the audience is younger than me, I don’t mind being a canary in the coal mine and providing the occasional non-clinical take on the joys of aging. 

Entertaining as it is to read about enlarged atria and mitral valve regurgitation, let me take a different tack and offer a suggestion: Record stuff. Everything. Every condition, procedure, screening, test, diagnosis. Torn ligaments, swollen prostates, lumpy breasts, blood sugar spikes, heart flutters, uterine fibroids, the unwelcome polyp or two. Put them in a journal, notebook, computer disc, hard drive, video diary, whatever your preferred receptacle. Research your parents and families and their health issues through the years, as best you can, and record them, as well. 

To paraphrase the minstrel Gordon Sumner: Every bone you break, every med you take, I’ll be watching you. The information will benefit not only you, but the youngsters. Health care will become more diverse and specialized as you age. Walking into a doc’s office with a reasonably comprehensive personal and family history will help them treat you and identify potential future concerns. As your kids get older and become responsible for their own health care and consider starting families, their own records and yours will inform them and their doctors. That info could prompt early and preventive screenings and practices. Who knows, insurance might even cover it. Hey, miracles happen. 

Think of a family health history as your kids’ least favorite Christmas present. I say this as a habitual note taker and hoarder professionally who was pretty cavalier, if not negligent, about personal info. I kept box scores and media guides and news files for decades, but often couldn’t pull when I had blood work or a colonoscopy or stress test. Only in recent years have I gotten more diligent about taking notes and keeping records related to me. Some of you may already do this. If so, salute. If not, there’s time. 

Granted, digitized record keeping enables access to years’ worth of tests and treatments quickly and easily, so in some cases one need not carry and pull out the family album. But if you’re referred to a cardiac or gastro or endocrinology doc, there’s no guarantee that their computers, or more likely the staffers who man their computers, will communicate with your primary care doc or whomever did the referring. 

I’ve experienced instances where my local cardiac guy’s findings were unknown to a cardiac specialist I see elsewhere and vice versa, even though they’re in the same (gargantuan) network, and neither’s diagnosis made it to my primary care doc before I saw him for a regular check-up months later. Keeping your own records reduces the chances of falling through the cyber cracks, or at least providing some background if the doc standing before you makes a face as if she was suddenly handed a Turkish train schedule. 

Also, evident midway through my seventh decade is that the disruptor gremlins don’t politely wait in line or take turns, as some of you are doubtless aware. A thyroid issue may arise alongside heart arrhythmia, joining that touch of arthritis in your knees and ankles for an assemblage of delight. Chronicling all of it won’t alleviate the problems but provides a sense that we’re aware and not a dinghy helplessly caught in a squall. We’re essentially security cams or mall cops when it comes to our health, unable to remedy a situation but at least recognize that something irregular is afoot and alert the authorities. 

Which prompts one more recommendation: listen to your body. I get that most of us don’t want to come off as alarmists or hypochondriacs, hustling to the doc for every tweak and ache and ailment. I still tend to chalk up various discomforts as old guy distinctions and tolerate them. But once we cross 50, any condition that lingers is worth exploring. Understand, as well, that some conditions present themselves, others do not. So get screened for the stuff you can’t see or feel right away. Erosion comes for us all. Give yourself a chance to endure it knowledgeably, if not always comfortably. Sedation remains an option, and methods and ingredients may vary.

Hopping On The Medicarousel

In a testament to modern medicine and dumb luck, I turn 65 at the end of September, which means I’m in the crosshairs for that singular American joyride, Medicare. 

I’ve spent much time of late researching various parts, plans, supplements, coverage gaps, co-pays, deductibles and assorted minutiae related to health care. It’s as entertaining as you imagine. 

As I’m older than all of you here in the digital tree fort, I’d gladly be the doddering, arrhythmic sounding board for the group, but my adulting skills are limited. I pay bills on time and follow traffic laws; beyond that, it’s sketchy. Besides, by the time the rest of you approach 65, President Tuberville will have abolished Medicare in favor of some sort of health care Hunger Games. We’ll all be peddling our organs on the futures market and dumpster diving behind Trader Joe’s. 

I’ll keep the details to a minimum because this site has an ethos to uphold, and extended exposure will numb you. Medicare signup is a fairly straightforward process. Folks are required to register with the government in the six-month period before and after their 65th birthday. They can delay health care through Medicare if they’re insured through their jobs or some other preferred outlet. Medicare doesn’t cover everything, nor is it free. 

Unless you’re a Marvel superhero or inclined to roll the dice, it’s generally advisable to sign up for separate plans that cover prescription drugs and fill in gaps that basic Medicare doesn’t cover, such as dental and vision. Supplemental plans are standardized by the government in what they must provide, though cost from one insurance company to the next is not. Think of it like buying a Coke at the grocery store and at 7-Eleven. Same product, different prices. 

Many insurance heavy hitters are also in the Medicare marketplace. I could easily wallpaper my bathroom with literature I received from a bunch of them congratulating me on my “milestone” birthday and touting their services. In my previous life as a newspaper keyboard jockey, I researched lots of subjects, though insurance and health care rarely came up in explorations of field goal percentage and third-down efficiency. Not my areas of expertise. As I tried to compare prices for various plans and providers, insurance companies wanted just enough personal info to permit them to flood me with more promotional materials. 

An inordinate amount of dog walking took place during the research process, since it seemed more beneficial than staring at the computer screen and sticking spoons into my eyes. I then learned that there are companies dedicated to helping people navigate Medicare enrollment. They may have arrangements with 20 or 30 different insurance companies, but don’t push specific insurers or plans. Their agents walk customers through options and provide them with multiple price quotes and comparisons. You don’t get a bill from the company or agent, but my understanding is that they get paid through the arrangements to said insurers. 

Guy I spoke to at one such advisory company was mega informative and helpful, if only so that I didn’t have to fend off a half-dozen sales pitches. Armed with just enough info to be dangerous, it was left to me to choose insurance providers and plans and commit money for the next year, without knowing how any of it would play out, only that I would be somehow “covered.” It was more nerve-wracking than asking girls to dance when I was in middle school. Probably part of the whole adulting thing. 

Anyway, I’m now part of the gargantuan, government-subsidized system. There are legit ideological and policy discussions to be had about government reach versus personal responsibility. I wouldn’t attempt to persuade anybody one way or the other, though I’m in the camp that believes countries taking care of their citizens shouldn’t be confined to weaponry and soldiers, particularly in a nation as affluent as ours. To what extent that should include health care and various safety nets is for brighter minds. I go forward with fingers crossed, hoping that when I need a doc or a scrip or a procedure, that they’re available and don’t require a transfer of funds or to sell my car. I don’t think it’s covered by Medicare, but hit me up if anyone has a line on a decent shaman.