So, what's the latest from me? Not a statement of real news, but a statement of fact, which is simply this: I gotta move.
I'm not saying that because "You Gotta Move" was the title of Aerosmith's last DVD prior to the most-recent one (like that means anything; They just released the third "Ninja Turtles" movie in as many decades, & I'm not counting the sequels). I'm also not meaning that I have to move out of this apartment. (I think I should "As Soon As Quick", but good luck finding a realtor who's in their office at 5 AM on a Saturday & doesn't themselves live there!) I'm saying that because of "AAA"...
... But I'll get to that. First off, let me cover the "insurance" part of this. Of course, for any reader who is anywhere near my age & like me has never been employed (technically; I believe a no-longer-existent company owes me a few small paychecks), that means "Obamacare". When I read or hear that phrase, I think of Carrie ("Solve The Big Problem That Caused Her To Play 'Maria'") Underwood & Brad Paisley, & the song they did about it at the CMAs a few years back...
Regardless, I'll admit here I voted for him twice, but have come
to regret it, although not due to anything related to health insurance. Aside from that, I've got a medical history as big as some phone books, but I also have long said I don't need to worry about any of it, as I have "insurance up the ying-yang". (This is what I called it when I was younger; I've decided to save time in recent years, simply calling it "insurance up the wazoo".)
Regardless of what type of insurance you have, there is one BIG problem with all of it I think anyone reading this will agree with... That being that "the insurance pays". For instance, my current insurance pays for things I need for my (diagnosed) Diabetes.... But only partially... And only the insulin, not the needles I use to give myself the insulin. (I may have that backwards, but I know it's one & not the other.) Also, for instance, my insurance will cover the appointment I made with my neurosurgeon this coming week; If, however, he again chooses not to operate at/by the end of the appointment, my insurance will still cover any costs associated with the time he spent with me. (Oh, how I wish I could contact them to put a "stop payment" on that check! I'm betting it would end-up in court, but it would be worth it all the more to me to get him on a TV court show, so people across this state & country know that this may be the one "-surgeon" out there who refuses to operate when any other neuro-guy whose own brain actually works can see the patient's life depends on it!!)
That reminds me (I've long wished my neuro- people could tell me why my brain takes trips like this)... Once again (already said it on Twitter), happy (now-belated) brithday to Stan Freberg! In my mind, his name automatically makes me think of the old TV episode, "Monkee Vs. Machine". I think of that now because it near-starts with still-performing Monkees Peter Tork & Mike Nesmith being (separately) interviewed for a job by a machine. When Peter asks why he can't talk to a human, the machine goes into a long speech that I always recall ends with something about the use of a machine helping to lessen the possibility of "the human error".
That is the main problem I was referring to about what the insurance does cover/pay for; We all (as the saying goes; I stopped doing this around my early 'teens) give anyone with "Doctor" before their names such respect & trust, in addition to any financial gain they indirectly recieve from us. (It reminds me of an old "Law & Order: SVU" episode that includes a scripted piece spoken about trusting a respected doctor, a dramatic bit spoken by usually-comedic actor Robin Williams, who of course himself earned an Oscar playing... What else? A doctor; We all know Academy Awards haven't given one to someone in a comedy in quite some time.)
For instance, whatever insurance(s) I had at the time no doubt paid for my now-inactive endocrinologist when I began seeing him after I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. (I've made absolutely no secret about my continued disbelief of this diagnosis, but have kept relatively quite about him lying to me about a medication he eventually put me on that wasn't at the time FDA-approved for my age group, or how he eventually dropped me as a patient due to being unable to contact me while I was in an out-of-town hispital due to an infection caused by something that even a-decade-plus later could be easily traced back to him.)
Insurances have continued to pay for each endocrinologist I've seen, including the one who (again) dropped me as a patient because I (& a company associated with them) thought I was a good candidate for an insulin pump, & he had a personal issue with the objects/their manufacturers. They then paid for the one I saw in Pennsylvania, who I saw maybe twice (couldn't pick her out of the proverbial lineup now), despite going to her office at least a half-dozen times. Keep following the sequence, & I can try to cut-&-paste the list of 5 endocrinologists' names & addresses they E-mailed me this year, 1 of which was the man with the pump personal issue, & another 3 of which were the one who I'd been seeing for a while, until she had recently moved out-of-state, that relocation being the reason I had initially contacted them & asked them for the list.
OK; Even I'm tired of all that. (You wanna discuss insurance with me, then we both need to check our life-insurance policies, as it may take me a few years; I keep myself under controls where I don't form opinions on shows-or-movies I haven't seen, but I also tend to over-inform/over-think myself on things.) Let me get to the "AAA".
When I refer to "AAA", I'm not referring to the car service. (Never had a license in my life.) I'm also not referring to anything related to Alcoholics Anonymous. (No joke; Only ever had 1 alcoholic drink in my life, & was literally in rehab at the time.) I'm referring to right here, right now: "Always-Active August".
That's the way I can best, honestly explain why I'm up at a-quarter-to-6 on a Saturday morning, typing this blog while simultaneously wondering what I can do next when I'm finished. It's also the best honest explanation for why I'm sitting here, waiting for my hair to dry from the shower I exited under an hour ago. Lastly, it's the top reasoning for why I walked 30 uninterrupted "laps" of part of this apartment 2 hours ago...
Long story short (too little, too late for that maybe), some part of me is always thinking that I won't be killed by any cold or other sickness I catch, any allergy I may have, or the neuro-, kidney, or heart issues I've been diagnosed with over the past few decades; I'm predicting I will be rolled "into my last shallow bed" (quoting a GREAT old Cory Branan song) due to something I may have now or get later, but without anyone being aware until I'm already "Goin' Down" (Just-as-GREAT Monkees song). Therefore, being (as I actively consider myself) constantly aware that I am constantly unaware how much time I have left, I want to make sure I don't waste a second of it.
The latest from me now? I have no clue of anything else I wanna type in this blog, nor any idea how to spend the next 9 minutes before new shows start on TV. (5:51 AM)
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