High Rate Robbery
We can stop looking for the purpose of life. I have found it.
It is not service to mankind.
It is not spiritual peace.
It is not the gaining of great knowledge.
It is not discovering new solar systems or exploring marine life on the bottom of the world's oceans.
It is not safeguarding the world from dictatorships. It is not waiting for the Atlanta Braves, Falcons and/or Hawks to hang a championship banner.
It is not an annual pilgrimage to Graceland.
The purpose of life is to make enough money to pay for health insurance.
I say this because of a letter that arrived recently. The letter informed me that my family health policy was being increased from $234 to $587 a month.
And that is one hell of an increase.
Don't get me wrong. It was a good policy. One of those with a small deductible, a dental plan, reasonably clear and understandable forms to fill out, and not much hassle from the home office.
But a leap from $2,808 a year to $7,044-especially when I seldom exceeded the deductible? Something is wrong here, out of whack, bordering on insanity.
I called my wife and told her about the letter. She shrieked over the telephone and demanded to know how I had let things get so far out of control.
I told her I had little, or nothing, to do with it.
"How can it cost that much?" she cried.
"How do I know?" I snapped. "All I do is write the check." I promised I would inquire, and I did. It was the expected response. Rising health costs, reevaluation of the existing policy (supposedly the first such analysis in a couple of years), etc. I have learned that there is a kind of litany that insurance people use to explain problems. It is delivered with a sad clucking of the tongue, with empathy, and with apology for the necessity of such high rates. They always tell you about an incident personal to them that agrees with your complaint. You always thank them for understanding.
"What are we going to do?" my wife asked.
"Look for something cheaper," I said.
"I still don't know how you let it get out of control," she replied.
The fact is, in my family, the matter of insurance is out of control. We sat one Sunday and put on a sheet of paper all that we are paying to be insured for something that may or may not happen (except for the life policy, of course; that's a certainty). Discounting the health policy, we were shelling out $7,699.76 a year, or an average of $641.65 per month, including some policies that we carry for our children. If we had elected to keep our old health policy, the one that took the leap to $587 per month, we would have been paying $14,743.76 a year, or an average of $1,228.65 per month.
We did not elect to keep the old policy. After casting about, comparing policies (try that exercise for a joyful use of discretionary time), we settled on a plan that was far less comprehensive than our old policy (no dental, higher deductible), but with a cost of slightly more than $400 per month.
I wanted to celebrate. I told my wife, "It's only costing us about $5,000 a year."
She scoffed.
We added up everything once again. Not bad. I am now paying only $12,544.76 a year for all my insurance policies, an average of $1,045.40 a month.
By comparison, my mortgage payments are slightly over $800 per month.
Yet, by further comparison, my first house cost only $12,500, and I had thirty years to pay off the debt.
I do not want this lamentation to be misread. I believe in insurance. Without it I would have been terrified to raise a family, and I have benefited on more than one occasion because a policy did what it said it would do-such as replacing the roof when the wind blew the shingles across the neighborhood, or paying for my son's emergency appendectomy (the one that cost as much as my entire college education).
You see, I think all of us would like to believe the purpose of life is more important than trying to pay the price to stay well enough to enjoy it.
As it is, I'm having a tough time of it-and there must be others in the same boat.
I did one last calculation. I subtracted everything-insurance, taxes, monthly bills, etc.-from the projected income and there was just enough left for a bottle of aspirin.
I need them.
I have one god-awful headache.
But if I called my doctor, I couldn't meet the deductible.