Category Archives: Humor

Don’t Pay Those Medical Bills.

Yes, I said it. Countless times I have run into weary-worn caregivers who are frustrated by the overwhelming cost of care. According to AARP, out-of-pocket (OOP) costs for caregivers can be upwards of twenty percent of a caregiver’s income.

https://www.aarp.org/caregiving/financial-legal/info-2017/out-of-pocket-cost-report.html

And this is only getting worse.

I often find that clients of mine or even those I’m caring for are quick to pay any medical bill that comes to their mailbox. I encourage you to STOP that right now. We in caregiving and Elder healthcare know that there are many documents that come to our door that say: ‘This is Not a Bill.” And yet it looks like a bill, it sounds like a bill and it often has wording that indicates, “your share of expenses.” I’m sure you’ve found, as I have, that with my mother’s generation:”If it’s a bill, you pay it.” Even if it just ‘looks’ like a bill, many seniors will pay it, just to get it off their plate and to do the right thing.

Unquestionably, we should not pay something that says, “This is Not a Bill.” I’ve been able to either take those away, sneak them out of the house, or train my caregivees not to pay them. That has made a significant in-road into this problem. But it is the real bills that can cost you more than you know.

I tell the tale of a bill I received for my brother-in-law from the hospital for $4500.00, after his death. He had excellent health insurance and was ill for many months prior to his death, so this bill seemed far too exorbitant based on what I knew about his insurance. Every month for a year, I received this bill. Every two or three months, after I called to inquire if they had submitted it correctly to insurance, if they had processed the bill, or if they had calculated all the insurance discounts, they would tell me to wait as the bill was still in process. But they continued to send me the bill, even though they were waiting for payment.

I could have paid that bill ten times before it was properly processed. The actual final bill was $0.00. Yes, zero dollars and zero cents. Just try getting back $4500.00 you’ve overpaid because you were hasty to ‘pay’ a bill. And as I alluded to at the beginning of this article, often caregivers pay these bills out of their own pocket. Don’t do that either, if you can help it, ever. That discussion is for another day.

But for now, when you receive a bill, make sure it is correct. Make sure it has been processed both by Medicare and your Medigap policy, if you have one. Make sure you have received all your proper discounts. Don’t ever be afraid to call and question a bill. Never be afraid to wait, just wait and see if the bill has been processed properly. You can and will save yourself money, frustration and maybe even some heartburn.

Then perhaps you can have the last laugh!

“You Just have to Laugh……….”

©2018 Cathy Sikorski

Sr. Jean’s Bracket gets Broken!

If you are following March Madness, you know Sister Jean, the 98-year-old nun from Chicago’s Loyola University who is the Chaplain, and erstwhile coach of her young men who just made it to the Elite 8.

 

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Even if you don’t watch or care about NCAA college basketball tournament, how can you turn your back on Sr. Jean? She inspires everyone of us over the age of 50! There isn’t a senior citizen (or a junior citizen for that matter) who wouldn’t trade places with her right now. She travels with the team, she is the national….excuse me, international darling of a nationwide event, and she’s 98-years-young partying with college kids!

So, what can we learn from this? Here are 6 pieces of advice I think Sr. Jean would  impart if I could score an interview with this international star:

  1. Pray for your team.  Pray for the other team, but not as hard. (From an interview with March Madness)
  2.  Even with prayers, you still have to box out..which in real life means pay attention to what’s coming at you.
  3. Stick with the plan. Sr. Jean has been loyal to Loyola for over 50 years. She stuck with the plan and now she’s an international star.
  4. Good coaching can come from unexpected places. The players admitted they thought Sr. Jean was just there for praying. Hell, no. She tells them who to watch, how to defend and when to buck up.
  5. Always be a Class Act, cause rankings don’t mean a thing. Admittedly, Sr. Jean’s bracket got busted on Thursday night. She didn’t take her team to the Elite 8, but they took themselves there.  The first thing Sr. Jean did was congratulate her team. The very next thing she did was commend Nevada for the great game they played. Class act.
  6. What are  you gonna’ be doing at 98-years-old?  As we say in the law: res ipsa loquitor ( the thing speaks for itself!)

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Since there are surely more busted  brackets this March than there are daffodils blooming on the East Coast, let’s take Sr. Jean’s example,  be a class act, enjoy every day as we get closer to 98, pray when it matters, and box out, always box out.

“You Just have to Laugh………..”

©2018 Cathy Sikorski

Be Like Peg…….

I recently got a phone call to return to great group of women and speak again. But this call went a bit differently than most conversations:

Mrs. K: Hi, Cathy! We were so happy to have you speak last year, but I think you need to return.

Me: Well, I would love to, is there anything particular you’d like me to talk about?

Mrs. K: Yes. I want you to give them the ‘SCARY TALK.”

Now, this is a group of mature women, church ladies, in fact, so I was pretty sure she didn’t mean she wanted me to give the sex talk. On the other hand, there are quite a few widows in this group…so maybe, they wanted a refresher course?  Maybe they didn’t remember my expertise?

Me:  So, Mrs. K., do you mean the SCARY TALK that I mentioned in passing about how healthcare costs and nursing home costs can truly make you destitute? Or……something else ( I wanted to make sure we were on the same page, my youthful good looks may have intrigued her to think something else.)

Mrs. K:  Absolutely. It’s time these women realized that there is terrifying information out there that they need to have. It’s time they got truly prepared.

 

What is going to happen to my money?!?

Me: I couldn’t agree more, but you need to let them know this is the SCARY TALK. No more “fun-and-games-Cathy.”  This will have to be the “I’m-not-even-kidding-Cathy.”

Mrs. K: Yes, you’ve warned me, I will warn them, and there is no time like the present.

So I went back and gave them the “SCARY TALK,” which, in my defense,  at my last talk while they were laughing and laughing at my granny panties (you have to come to a talk to see that one) I did suggest that they should have me back to give them the blood-curdling news.

They survived. It was a bit ugly.  But I actually got a thank you note for the shocking and intimidating information about the nursing home and healthcare crisis that may befall everyone in that room.

I’m on a mission now, not waiting until Halloween to give the SCARY TALK, it just may save people from horrendous consequences.

If you want the SCARY TALK…..let me know…..I’ve got it down pat.

“You Just Have to Laugh…..and get informed, and get prepared, and then you can Laugh Again!”  And then you’ll be like Peg!

Meet Beautiful Peg..She’s 106, nothing scares her!

©2018Cathy Sikorski

 

For a good time, read…”Rats, Mice and Other Things You Can’t Take to the Bank.”

Doesn’t this look fun?! It is, but it is so much more. Join Leslie Handler in her journey of essays from a smitten young college student (I would love to hear so much more about her love story with Marty) to her journey through cancer, her willingness to walk a mile in your shoes, her true discovery to the key to incredible weight loss, and her wish to enter the elusive heaven of menopause (yep…she wants it, she wants it bad)!

Leslie keeps you smiling, laughing, crying, astounded and astonished with her stories of seemingly every-day-life. But is it? Is this your life or mine? Well if it is, everyone should write a book because the jaunt of Leslie’s life is remarkable.

I started to write about which chapters are my favorite, and when I went back through the book, that I literally just finished reading, I started reading each chapter all over again. I can’t pick a favorite. But what I can tell you is that Leslie’s honesty will roundhouse you like a 2×4, sometimes in a fun way and sometimes in a Jewish Bubbie’s , “What? You think only you have all the fakakta problems?”

A perfect book to give as a gift, take on a plane ride, a beach, or put in the bathroom. Leslie would be okay with that, I’m sure. It’s honest and heartfelt, just like her and her book.

Full disclosure, Leslie and I share an extraordinary Publisher, Donna Cavanagh and HumorOutcasts Press. We thank our lucky stars…we both say so in our books!

Just go click on this and order:

 

There’s a Cure for Every Disappointment…..

 

 

 

Hey Nor’easter….Enough Already!

Unfortunately, I was to speak tomorrow in front of an amazing group of Women at the TriCounty Community Network Women’s Symposium. Rightfully, the event was canceled because another Snowmaggedon is coming and no one should be concerned for their safety. So this is what my husband and  I discussed this morning:

Me: Snow’s coming. My event had to cancel.

Husband: Sorry.

Me: Go golfing today. You may not see a golf course again until Father’s Day.

Husband: What kind of alcohol do you want me to bring home?

I have a true love.

Be safe my Nor’Easter friends.

“You Just Have to Laugh…..”

©2018 Cathy Sikorski

Who Needs an Invisibility Cloak?

We had a spring break here in the Northeast this week. Two days in the middle of the week went to 75 degrees. Just three days before, we were blanketed with five inches of snow. In case you missed it, or for those of you who love watching me be ridiculous:

But like I said, three days later,  we were wearing shorts, flip-flops, and sleeveless tops.  It was crazy. And this brings more angst than one would imagine. I had a pretty important business meeting on the second day of spring fever. It took me hours to find clothing for this meeting. Have you ever had that problem? It wasn’t just that I wanted to look nice, but this weather phenomenon was my own personal global warming nightmare.

First, like Gus, the second most famous groundhog in Pennsylvania, I don’t need to keep svelte for a February performance like Punxsutawney Phil. I kind of layer up for warmth in the winter, if you know what I mean. And I don’t mean clothing…I mean I’m part black bear and add a layer of warming fat to my bones….strictly for hibernation purposes.

What this means in the emergency situation of a February heat wave is that well, none of my pants fit. At least none of the pants that are made for warm weather. Which would be okay, I’ve been here before and can usually rectify that by Easter (as long as it doesn’t come too early, Lent is the great equalizer. Thank you, Jesus.)

In the alternative, I think  I’ll wear a dress or a skirt. But lo and behold, my toenails look like a cross between Wolverine’s talons and a forgotten jar of mustard in the back of the fridge. I try not to have pedicures during the winter to give my toenails a break from the lacquer.  It does make a difference, for the health of my toenails. Covered in UGGS, socks, slippers and even fashionable boots all winter long makes for healthy feet. But not pretty feet.

Where’s the pedicure?!?

Why that matters is because I don’t have summer shoes where your toes are hidden. So now I’m pantsless and shoeless or sweltering hot in sweaters and wool trousers pretending I’m having hot flashes for a whole meeting. Perhaps there is an upside to menopause.

WHAT DO I DO?

I realize that no one is looking at me.

How the hell did I forget that middle-aged women are invisible? This would make me quite angry at any other time. I’m a ‘look-at-me’ kind of gal. For this one day, I’m embracing my invisibility and wearing shoes with my un-pedicured toes sticking out.

 

The new me!

I’d show you a picture, but I’m invisible. So there, Harry Potter.

“You Just have to Laugh…..”

©2018 Cathy Sikorski

The Bell Tolls for Thee……..

It happened to me yesterday.  I wasn’t ready. I had no idea how ‘not ready,’ I was.  It doesn’t matter how innocent it is.  Or that someone had all the right intentions when it happened.  It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t even necessary for it to happen. It happened.

I went to the grocery store after the gym. When I do go grocery shopping,  which is becoming less and less in a world of two-midlife-empty-nesters-who-like-to-dine-out-and socialize, I usually go after the gym.

Even though the gap in shopping equalled the bare shelves in the refrigerator, the pantry and the freezer at home, I was not in the mood to re-stock. A few things would tide us over until the weekend when we were scheduled to have breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner with friends on at least four occasions.

And then she appeared.

I was doing the usual dance with the attached carts.  You know, where the first cart hugs the second cart so lovingly that you think they have just entered into a romantic relationship of young love so desperate to stay together that nothing you can do will separate them.

You start to act like Mrs. Capulet, who has found her daughter entwined in the arms of Romeo and you are yanking them apart with such gusto that you may fracture an important appendage, but you want them apart regardless of the cost.

I yanketh as hard as I can.

Or…cart separation…perhaps a new Olympic Event!

And anon, appears a young maiden who, with the eyes of a doe and the sympathetic voice of an angel, looking at me like I have struggled far too long in life to be suffering in such a way any longer, says: “Oh, do you need help?”

It wasn’t even what she said. Yes, you know the drill: It was the way she said it.

As a caregiver, I have said it a thousand times that way. “Oh you are struggling, let me help you. I am young, and strong, and can fix that up in a jiffy!”

She was helping an old lady.

I saw it in her eyes. I heard it in her voice.

I was stunned.

I wanted to scream: “Hey I’m wearing yoga pants, for God’s sake. I just got off the elliptical machine. I don’t even have gray hair yet!”

What I think I look like shopping.

No matter. I was receiving the “helping verb.” (Grammarians and Catholic School kids will love that.)

My response to this, after thanking her for showing me the trick to extricating what I like to think of as the male cart from the female cart…(yep, there’s trick!), was to shop like I was a young mom of 30.

I put a huge pack of toilet paper under my cart. I grabbed a slab of brisket that weighed the same as bag of bricks. I went to the new wine and beer section in our grocery store to ‘check the prices,’ like someone who buys liquor as a matter of course for all my fun evenings. I bought $300 worth of groceries for two people who are rarely home and go out every weekend.

The good news is, I don’t have to grocery shop for a month. I know how to separate those fornicating carts by myself, and I may be a bit less condescending when I help others. Ouch, that one really hurt.

“You Just have to Laugh…..”

©Cathy Sikorski 2018

With Facebook Friends like this…Who Needs Enemies?

Two years ago, my Mom called me, practically in tears.

“Roberta was so mean to me,” she said.

I’m thinking, “who the hell is Roberta?”.

“She’s from my medical insurance carrier. I called to ask her why a bill wasn’t paid and she said I should never have been given this insurance and I’m going to have to pay back every penny from the last 15 years.”

“And,” she went on with a worried tone, “you told me to NEVER pay a medical bill. So I don’t know what to do.”

“Calm down, Mom. We will get this worked out. It will be okay.”

My first reaction was this:

I did tell my Mom never to pay a medical bill because her insurance covers everything.

My mom has Tricare For Life Medical Insurance. This insurance is for Veterans and their families, spouses, widows, children. My Dad died in a helicopter crash as an Army pilot on October 10, 1961. My mother had five children all under the age of 10 and was pregnant with her sixth child. So I kind of think my Mom is entitled to this insurance.

The thing is, Mom never claimed this insurance until my step-father passed away in 1998. She didn’t even ask for it. She already had Medicare and AARP. But when she applied for her widow’s the Veteran’s Administration made her jump through all kinds of hoops with documentation and then GAVE her this insurance.

My mom is a Virgo.

Why does that matter? She has kept every single piece of paper that has ever come into her life. So she has every piece of documentation that transpired fifteen years ago with the Veteran’s Administration. The VA put her on the wrong insurance.

So two years ago, they began threatening an 87-year-old widow, who raised her family of six children without a father, a man never even made it to 30 years old, that she would be thousands of dollars in debt to them because of their mistake.

After talking to seven different people at seven different government administrative places which most people never even heard of, we refiled all the documentation from 15 years ago.

I wrote much of this post two years ago.  And much of the problem has been resolved after mountains of paperwork and dozens of phone calls…one that occurred while I was drinking in Times Square. Hey, if they call, you answer, because they may never call back.

I said this two years ago, probably after the drinking incident in Times Square:

 I know from the last 25 years of caregiving and jumping through administrative hoops that this story will not have an easy ending. There’s going to be reams of paperwork. There will likely be boatloads of nastiness. There may be a lawsuit. But in my best, Scarlett O’Hara voice: “As God is my witness….my mother will never pay one dime to fix this problem.”

There’s one small problem that persists. The government agencies just can’t agree and  are trying to collect $687 from my sweet ol’ mom that they think they are owed from overpayments. I still have people in all these agencies working on it and I have not yet caved to paying money to make it go away, but still…..I am amused by the latest missive from one of the insurers trying to collect funds:

Fun things to do while fighting with Insurance
Like us On Facebook……Indeed.

Hmmmm…..I’m struggling with that friend request.

©Cathy Sikorski 2018

 

Learning a New Language Can Save Your Brain……or Your Relationships

We had to do it.  After more than 5 years of a flip phone, which we lovingly called an “Amish Phone,” in my family, we had to get my 89-year-old mom a smartphone.

We considered a Jitterbug, because of the big numbers, and other capabilities that would be what she really wanted in a phone, but after interviewing some of her friends who had the Jitterbug, the smartphone seemed better for mom.

My mom texts. She checks her email. She wants to get all those cool photos my brother sends from all over the world. And she does have an iPad, so I thought there would be a bit of intuitiveness in her use of a smartphone. I was so very, very wrong.

First, and this is my fault as well as my mom’s, we didn’t get her an iPhone. We got her a Samsung. So any comparison to the iPad was already (in her mind) off the table. I have an iPhone and an iPad and at first, I didn’t find the Samsung so outrageously different. And yet, different it is.

We pushed buttons, arrows, question marks, houses, envelopes, and do-hickeys of every kind. We renamed them, the house, the three buttons, the mail, the three lines like sheet music. We renamed everything to improve our communication, so that I wasn’t yelling, “NO….NOT the up and down dots, the sideways dots.

We spent a girls’ weekend putting in her contacts (not in her eyes, in her phone) by hand from her old phone, because it had no bluetooth capability to transfer the information. Who knew mom and I would have to learn a new language in our 60’s and 80’s just to have a nice girls’ weekend?

My sisters took over on that weekend for a few hours to add games like Spider Solitaire, Free Cell and who knows what else, because….yeah……my mom plays games on the computer and iPad and wanted them on her phone as well. I DON’T EVEN PLAY THOSE GAMES.

It’s been about 2 weeks now.

Mom and I went to lunch yesterday. She showed me all the cool things her phone can do. She kept getting the camera to show up unexpectedly, so I asked the waitress if she had an android, and if so what makes the camera appear? She said if you press the ‘when-in-doubt’  twice, that’s what makes it happen. (She didn’t really say that, she said the ‘home’ button, but in CATHAMOM, our new language, it’s the big black button in the middle called the “when-in-doubt-press this button to get back to the beginning”).

This means “where are my contacts?”

Even learning how much pressure in one’s fingers to use to tap, slide, press or push is a lesson in patience, frustration and Olympic-like celebration of success when it works!

My mom texted me this morning and said, “Leaving now, see you at home.”

“Wow!” I thought, pretty darn impressive.

Translated from: “I’ll be home.”

I went to her house. She wasn’t there. She was at breakfast with her friends. Apparently, ‘at home’ means breakfast with my friends,’ in CATHAMOM.

“You Just have to Laugh…….”

©2018 Cathy Sikorski