Monday, March 31, 2025

Medicare Hell (A Cautionary Tale)


This is a blog post I had hoped never to write, as this story doesn’t make me look too intelligent. That said, I hope that you will learn from my mistakes and don’t do what I did!

Back in the fall of 2023, I made the decision to ditch employer provided health insurance and plunge ahead into Medicare. It was an easy decision as I was expecting to retire soon and was tired of fighting with my employer provided plan over things that were supposed to be covered but often were denied. As anyone approaching 62 can tell you, there are plenty of options and you will receive at least 20 official looking envelopes a week from companies that offer Medicare policies. Sooner or later, we all make the jump to Medicare - how hard could it be?  

So, at the beginning of 2024, I traded the comfort of a single line paycheck deduction for 8 separate policies for my wife and myself. We each had Medicare Parts A (hospitalization), B (regular healthcare), and D (prescription meds). Denise took a plan F (supplemental) and I took a plan G (supplemental). We worked with our plan administrator to get all the payments on autopilot, or at least that’s what I thought we did. 

Early in January, I caught COVID, or maybe it caught me. I’m a little fuzzy on the details for that period of time because brain fog is real. From January through July, I felt like my brain was functioning at about 20% of normal capacity. Focusing on anything for more than 30 seconds felt impossible. And just about every day, there would be 2 or 3 official looking envelopes telling me about all of these Medicare policies and I’d toss them all in the garbage without even opening them. Then one day in early August, I opened one up. It informed me that my Medicare Part B policy had been cancelled for lack of payment.

I scratched my head and wondered what was going on. It turned out that the billing for Medicare Part B wasn’t on autopilot. It also turns out that without Part B coverage, you can’t have Part D or G. I was screwed - no health coverage until I got reinstated. I went down to the local Social Security office, pleaded guilty to being an idiot and asked to be reinstated. They told me I needed to pay up the back payments and they’d do their best to get my Part B going again. It was then that I learned that getting reinstated for Part B involves both the Medicare and Social Security teams working together - two gigantic organizations who were both severely understaffed. They warned me, it might take a while. I wrote the check and said a prayer.

My check for the missed payment didn’t even clear the bank for almost two months, but once it did, it gave me hope. I became a regular visitor to my local social security office – every week I’d stop in and ask for an update. I was nice at first but became increasingly agitated. They always told me the same thing - they had no control over any of it - it was out of their hands. I asked, “whose hands it was in?” They couldn’t tell me. None of them. Every week it was the same conversation. I was fed up. In early November, I contacted Senator Mark Warner’s office and asked for help. They said they would, and I was satisfied that I had sic’d the big dogs on them. But still… nothing. Nothing but the same old story - Two gigantic organizations who were both severely understaffed. 

In early December, I got a call from the top supervisor at the Roanoke Social Security Office. They needed another check to cover the time from August 1st to the end of the year. I happened to have the checkbook with me, drove right down and paid the man. I was getting desperate for something to happen. Finally, in mid-December, he called again to inform me that my Part B coverage had been reinstated. I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off me – now I could get sick and not have to worry.

The moral of the story is this - don’t ever miss a Medicare payment. I don’t care if you are in a coma and your arms and legs have been amputated. You need to crawl out of your hospital bed and pay that bill. Because once you get the boot, you may never get back on. And not to go political or anything, but you know what’s happening in DC and government offices all over the land. This could happen to you just like it happened to me. You could literally get sick, die and be reborn two or three times before you get it straightened out.

I welcome your thoughts and experiences in the comments below. Please share this post with others who value both humor and serious stuff about this blue marble that we all share.

If you'd like to leave a comment, but you get an error message, it's probably because you have your browser set to reject 3rd party cookies. The solution is to select "anonymous" where the window says, "comment as". Just leave your name or initials if you want to let me know who you are. Thanks for reading this!


Sunday, March 2, 2025

This Blog Post Could Save Your Financial Life!


What would happen to your personal finances if you were incapacitated for a period of time?
  Would your bills get paid?  Would taxes get filed on time?  Would you you get sued or your credit take a nosedive because nobody had the legal authority to access your money?  I got a big wakeup call on this very subject late in January and I learned some pretty important lessons that are worth sharing. If you have any kind of financial obligations in life, you’d best listen up - this could save your financial life.

Back in 2009, a very good friend of the family was dealing with breast cancer. At the time, she didn’t know how the disease or her treatment would affect her ability to manage her affairs, so she asked if I would step in if needed.  I said OK, and she had her attorney draw up what is known as a “Durable Power of Attorney” (POA) granting me the legal authority to manage her affairs.  As it turned out then, her treatment was effective, and I never had to step in.  The document was filed and forgotten.  Around the same time, my wife Denise suffered a stroke, and our social life took a big hit.  Our friend took another job in a different city, and we fell out of touch except for the occasional greeting on Facebook.

Fast forward to December of 2024.  Our friend suffered a brain bleed and ended up hospitalized - a traumatic brain injury is what it’s referred to.  This resulted in memory loss and, being hospitalized, she wasn’t able to manage her affairs. Her family tried their best to handle things, but in the days of ultra-high bank security, they weren’t able to access her funds. Someone remembered her saying that she had a signed POA, and I was somehow involved.  They hunted me down on Facebook.  I looked for and found the POA and sent it to the family and, after some discussion, it was agreed that I was in the best position to tackle the role.  It’s been an education to say the least. 

Imagine that you suffer a serious injury or disease that sidelined you, either temporarily or permanently.  Did you know that your spouse or significant other / family member / friends can’t legally access your accounts or assets unless their name is on the account or title? They can’t sell your assets if needed to pay your medical bills.  If you are smart like my friend was, you’ll find someone that you trust and have a POA drawn up and executed (signed and notarized) so that if something happens, your affairs can be handled efficiently and legally.  If this isn’t in place, it can take months to get a court ordered conservator appointed to manage your affairs.  As I’ve discovered, a POA is as important as having a Will or Advance Medical Directive.

Here’s are 5 big things a POA can do for you:

You get to appoint someone that you trust (your agent) to manage your affairs, not just whoever is available or steps up in a crisis (qualified or not). This allows you to choose someone you trust to act in your best interests and follow your preferences.

It helps to reduce and hopefully avoid family stress, anxiety and disagreements during an already extremely stressful time, and you can recover without having to worry about your financial affairs.

The person you choose can step in quickly and prevent bad things from happening to your credit.  The last thing you need during your recovery is to be badgered by collection agencies calling on you and not caring that you are disabled.

By clearly outlining the agent's powers and limitations, a power of attorney can help prevent unauthorized actions and protect you from potential financial exploitation.

Your agent can interact with various agencies and companies on your behalf, resolving issues and making arrangements when you're unable to do so.

So, what’s the next step?  If you’ve already have a POA in place, sit back and relax or maybe share this post to others who might still need it.  If not, you can consult with a lawyer to see what’s required where you live or even use Legal Zoom or other online legal resources.  It may cost you a few hundred bucks, but if the time ever comes, it is a really important thing to have for both you and your family.  None of us are immune from things that can rob us of our independence and freedom, but this is one thing that you can do in advance to protect everything that you’ve worked for all of your life.

I welcome your thoughts and experiences in the comments below. Please share this post with others who value both humor and serious stuff about this blue marble that we all share.

If you'd like to leave a comment, but you get an error message, it's probably because you have your browser set to reject 3rd party cookies. The solution is to select "anonymous" where the window says, "comment as". Just leave your name or initials if you want to let me know who you are. Thanks for reading this!

Saturday, February 1, 2025

Ki Schmucker Past, Kai Schmucker Present

 

Me and Dad - Around 1989

February is a short month, but I always spend a lot of time thinking about my dad, “Ki” Schmucker.  In February of 1990, dad had moved into my home to live out his final days as liver cancer consumed his body.  It was to be the last, and possibly the best days that we would be together and he passed with me beside him on Febraury 23rd of 1990.

Ki was a nickname that he was given by the neighborhood kids back when he was young.  It was a shortened version of Kaiser, as in German Emperor Kaiser Wilhelm II, the last German Emperor and King of Prussia from 1888 until his abdication in 1918.  As dad never did like his given name (Clarence), he gladly accepted the name Ki as an improvement.  I don’t think he quite realized who or what his namesake was.

When World War II came around, Dad enlisted in the Army - Air Corps and was shipped off to Europe to fight the Nazi’s.  He hated the Nazi’s with the passion of one who had seen the blood and destruction of Europe.  After only 6 years, he separated from the Army as a Master Sergeant - quite a jump from a buck private enlistee. The Army offered him a chance to become a commissioned officer, but he turned it down because he had much more power as a senior non-commissioned officer. He saw a lot more than he ever let on and tried to drown those memories in Scotch, as did many others of the Greatest Generation.

As the youngest of two kids, and the only boy, I realized early on that my sister Dorothy was the apple of his eye. That’s not to say I was neglected, I just knew my place in life.  He played catch with me, took me to ball games, taught me how to fish and instilled strong values in me that I still hold and have passed on to my kids.  As I grew older, I learned that despite his blue-collar upbringing and being a career mail carrier, he was held in high esteem by many.  He was a Democratic committee member in Will County and state officials at the highest level all knew him on a first name basis. He was pretty good at getting out the vote.

Dad was a pretty good poker player, which is to say he played a big-money private game every Friday night and, on most Friday’s, he came out ahead.  He also knew his way around a horse track and was known to book a bet or two. His winnings funded a 6 figure bank account that my mother didn’t know about. It was supposed to be a nest egg for my sister and me. When she went into a nursing home, the State of Illinois found it and drained it.  Dad was extremely pissed about that. I told him that while I was grateful for his efforts, we’d be fine without it, and we have been.

Dad passed away on February 23rd of 1990.  I was just 33 years old.  My son Chris was born just 11 months later.  A few weeks ago, Chris and his wife Kaleigh gave birth to a son.  They named him Kai, which is pronounced “Ki”, which is quite an honor and a tribute to my dad and I’m still processing that.  As young Kai grows, I hope to share a lot of stories about his granddad, the original Ki Schmucker.  It’s the cycle of life, which I’m hoping that I get to enjoy for a long time.

Me and Little Kai Schmucker - January 2025

I welcome your thoughts and experiences in the comments below. Please share this post with others who value both humor and serious stuff about this blue marble that we all share.

If you'd like to leave a comment, but you get an error message, it's probably because you have your browser set to reject 3rd party cookies. The solution is to select "anonymous" where the window says, "comment as". Just leave your name or initials if you want to let me know who you are. Thanks for reading this!

Tuesday, December 31, 2024

Old School Ways Worth Passing Down

 

Carillion Roanoke Memorial Hospital

My dad taught me a lot during his life.  He was old school and passed on important values about right and wrong, how to shake hands with another man, and the importance of setting the hook properly when fishing. But probably the most important thing he passed along was the importance of being present for others in their hour of need, especially if they are hospitalized, and most especially if they are elderly and approaching the end of life.

    He taught me this not by talking about it, but by doing it. Many times, he would bring me along for brief periods of time. I particularly remember visits with my older relatives when they were sick or dying, and the compassion he showed in trying to make them comfortable or just listening when they wanted to talk. He always made sure they knew they weren’t alone, and he’d be there for them even if the going got rough. 

    I knew instinctively that the love and support that he showed were a few steps beyond what people normally did. He was almost kind of a Shaman for our family and the community around the old neighborhood where he grew up. He took calls in the middle of the night like a priest, and he’d put on his clothes and leave until the next day. Even as a youngster, I understood. He never hesitated and never showed any fear, even when the person he saw was potentially contagious. It was his calling.

    As I grew to be a man, I realized that it was my calling as well. There was never any question, and I started receiving calls that my dad used to receive.  I realized that there was much to be gained and much to be learned as I got used to it.  There is a special bond of trust that forms when someone entrusts you with their care in such situations. Sometimes you just listen to stories, memories or regrets. Sometimes you provide forgiveness or closure. Sometimes you just hold hands or give them space. Whatever the case, I always feel like I received the bigger portion of the blessings by being a part of their life during that difficult time.  

    I had the privilege to do this for Dad in the last weeks of his life. I received a call on Christmas evening in 1989. Dad was in the hospital, and I needed to fly home. In the next few days, we found out he had terminal liver cancer.  After a couple blood transfusions, he was discharged. We sold his house and moved him to Virginia to live with me. He passed away on February 23rd of 1990 with me at his side. It was a challenging but very special time for both of us, an experience I’d never trade away.

    For the past few years, I’ve been privileged to be with my mother-in-law Alice for many doctor visits and long hospital stays. We have that special bond of trust that develops, and she knows she can count on me to advocate for her, listen or just hold her hand when she's afraid. She’s been hospitalized with COVID since the day after Christmas, and will likely remain so for a while. She knows she won’t be alone - not on my watch. 

    During our stay, I’ve seen most elderly patients all alone, with few or no visitors. It seems like many of them must fend for themselves at a time when they are the most powerless and vulnerable. Hospitals are scary. Hospital staff seldom have the time to provide anything more than required treatment or checking of vital signs. They aren’t there to listen, hold your hand or just provide the simple dignity of knowing you aren’t alone. I personally think as a society, we need to do a lot better - both for them and for ourselves. As my dad passed these lessons down to me, I am passing it along to you.  

Thank You For Following My Blog 

    I welcome your thoughts and experiences in the comments below. And please, share this post with others who value both humor and serious stuff about this blue marble that we all share.

    If you'd like to leave a comment, but you get an error message, it's probably because you have your browser set to reject 3rd party cookies. The solution is to select "anonymous" where the window says, "comment as". Just leave your name or initials if you want to let me know who you are.  Thanks for reading this!


Sunday, December 1, 2024

Old Headline Brings New Hope

 

Joliet Herald News Headline - August 15, 1945

Embracing the Holiday Spirit: A Call for Peace

The holiday season has officially arrived, and with it comes the familiar wave of stress and anxiety. Each year, I find myself grappling with the challenge of gift shopping, overwhelmed by the crowds in stores and malls. I procrastinate, convincing myself that there’s still plenty of time. Yet, as the days slip away, so does my clarity, leaving me anxious about what to buy for those I cherish. Even more daunting is the question of what I want when asked by others. In past years, I felt lost, weak, and confused. But this year feels different—I finally know what I want for all of us.

A Moment of Reflection

A few days ago, on Thanksgiving Day, as I waited to head to our son Chris and his wife Kaleigh's gathering, I decided to tackle a long-overdue task: cleaning out a bedroom closet. Amidst a jumble of dust, old shoes, belts, and forgotten items, I stumbled upon a newspaper my parents had saved—a relic from August 15, 1945. The bold headline read “PEACE!”

That simple word sparked deep reflection. Those from my parents generation fought valiantly for four long years in Europe and the Pacific. The toll was staggering: over 38 million military personnel and civilians lost their lives in a conflict that was meant to be the war to end all wars. Yet here we are today—conflicts in Ukraine, Russia, and the Middle East; deep divisions within our own country. The path we tread seems fraught with turmoil and uncertainty. Perhaps if everyone could see that newspaper from 1945, we might recognize the direction we’re heading and find a way to heed John Lennon’s timeless call to “give peace a chance.”

Hope for a Better Tomorrow

I understand that envisioning peace in our times can feel daunting—just as it likely did in 1945. But if it was possible then, could it also be achievable now? Let’s hold onto that hope—for Jenya, Maksim, and Egor in Ukraine; for Israelis and Palestinians; for everyone around the globe, especially here in America.

There’s an old Christmas song that resonates with me: “Let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me.” This year, that is my wish for Christmas—not just for myself but for all of us.

A Gift of Peace

As we celebrate the holidays, regardless of our faith or background, we can offer each other the most precious gift: understanding. A moment of genuine human connection. The seeds of peace.

Who knows? Maybe future generations will discover our legacy and realize that change is always possible, one small act of kindness at a time.

Thank You For Following My Blog 

I welcome your thoughts and experiences in the comments below. And please, share this post with others who value both humor and serious stuff about this blue marble that we all share.

If you'd like to leave a comment, but you get an error message, it's probably because you have your browser set to reject 3rd party cookies. The solution is to select "anonymous" where the window says "comment as". Just leave your name or initials if you want to let me know who you are.  Thanks for reading this!

Thursday, October 31, 2024

My Closing Argument

 


The End Is Coming!

As we approach the final days of the election, I'd like to share some reflections on my campaign and recent experiences that have deeply impacted my perspective on the issues facing our nation.

An Unexpected Hospital Stay

While the major party candidates held their grand rallies, I found myself in a more sobering setting - accompanying my mother-in-law Alice for an extended stay at the University of Virginia Hospital in Charlottesville, VA. Over two weeks in October, I witnessed firsthand many of the real-life challenges that often get ignored or reduced to distorted and half-true memes or talking points by politicians.

Charlottesville: A City of Contrasts

Charlottesville itself is a place of great historical significance and modern complexities:

Founded by Thomas Jefferson in 1819, the University of Virginia stands as a testament to our nation's intellectual foundations and democracy itself.

Yet in 2017, the city became synonymous with the disturbing "Unite the Right" rally, where neo-Nazis marched openly. As someone whose father and uncle’s fought against Hitler and the horrors of Nazism in WWII, I find any resurgence of such ideology deeply troubling.

Healthcare Realities

UVA Hospital provided excellent care, thanks to a diverse and dedicated staff. Many were immigrants, proudly sharing stories of their home countries. Their compassion and skill stood in stark contrast to the anti-immigrant rhetoric so prevalent in today's political discourse. I completely reject any political ideology that demonizes immigrants with lies and false narratives.

The cost of healthcare remains a critical issue. While Alice was fortunate to have insurance coverage, I couldn't help but think of her roommate - a homeless woman in her 70s, struggling without resources. How does our society allow our elderly to become so vulnerable?  How does the wealthiest country on earth allow such a gap between the top 1% of earners and the rest of us?  Will cuts be proposed to Medicare, the Affordable Care Act, and Social Security by the next congress?

A Call for Collaborative Solutions

Neither major party can claim innocence in the face of these challenges. It's easy to point fingers and cast blame, but real solutions are far more complex than political talking points. Our leaders must move beyond partisan arguments and work together to find real solutions.

Your Vote Matters

As we approach Election Day, I urge you to take your civic duty seriously. Research candidates at all levels who demonstrate a commitment to addressing these issues through collaboration and practical solutions.

While I've enjoyed being a fictional candidate for President and poking a little fun at our political processes this past 10 months, the act of voting is no joke - it's about shaping our collective future.

Thank You For Following My Blog 

I welcome your thoughts and experiences in the comments below. And please, share this post with others who value both humor and serious stuff about this blue marble that we all share.

If you'd like to leave a comment, but you get an error message, it's probably because you have your browser set to reject 3rd party cookies. The solution is to select "anonymous" where the window says "comment as". Just leave your name or initials if you want to let me know who you are.  Thanks for reading this!

Friday, October 4, 2024

Vote for Me in 2024 - Special Counsel Edition!

 


For those who have been following along, my independent run for President really started to pick up steam in the last month as the two major party candidates seem to be locked in a deathmatch and people want to change the channel and see what else is on.  Many have turned to my campaign, especially after I was bit by a radio-active spider and acquired some Spiderman-like powers (see my September blog post for more on that).  


In any case, I knew as soon as my popularity and visibility increased, I’d be getting pressured to bow out.  It was expected, just not the way it has happened.  I figured that the major party candidates would put out some AI generated fake video of me doing something embarrassing or maybe Rudy Guiliani endorsing me.  But no, that wasn’t their approach.  Instead, a couple of big, burley FBI agents showed up last week and requested a blood sample for DNA analysis.  Seeing as they had guns and badges, and I fully support law enforcement, I said fine.  


The next thing I know, I get a call from the Department of Justice to inform me that the DNA testing showed positive results for radioactive spider-like mutations of my XYZ chromosomes.  I said so what?  The constitution only requires that I be a natural-born citizen of the United States, be at least 35 years old, and have been a resident of the United States for 14 years.  The shadowy voice on the phone said, not so fast Spiderguy, the congress just passed a new amendment to the constitution requiring that presidents can’t be mutants.  My head was spinning.  Who would think those guys could ever agree to such a thing?


Now, the word on the street is that Attorney General Merrick Garland is about to appoint a special counsel to investigate all of this - some guy named Norman Osborn and his assistant, a guy named Mephisto. Together, they supposedly make Jack Smith look like a pussy cat. There’s gonna be an announcement from Garland in the coming days and a big long investigation.  Maybe a couple of state indictments too.  And if I don’t play ball, I might get spirited away to Guantanamo Bay where I’ll make my web in a tiny cell for the next 20 years.  Crikey mates…   What to do?  Maybe I should pack up my web and take a political commentator job on some cable channel.  I guess we’ll see.


So, if any of this comes to pass before the election, I hope that you’ll vote for the candidate that you believe will best defend the our constitution and democracy.  Vote for the candidate that defends liberty and justice, not just here, but around the world - places that are far away where people yearn to live their lives in peace and be free (Slava Ukraini!).  Vote for the candidate who will reject murderous dictators and evil regimes.  And always, and I mean always, defend the right to hold free and fair elections with no intimidation or violence.  By doing so, you will be honoring my campaign and my legacy, and that is even better than being elected President!  


If you’ve come this far, you are probably aware that I post both humor and serious stuff and you have to sort it out.  Please leave a comment letting me know that you enjoyed it (or maybe not), and any similar experiences you’ve had.  You may know others who enjoy this sort of thing and, if so, I invite you to share it with them.  


If you'd like to leave a comment, but you get an error message, it's probably because you have your browser set to reject 3rd party cookies. The solution is to select "anonymous" where the window says "comment as". Just leave your name or initials if you want to let me know who you are.  Thanks for reading this!

Medicare Hell (A Cautionary Tale)

This is a blog post I had hoped never to write, as this story doesn’t make me look too intelligent. That said, I hope that you will learn fr...