Take Care

     Having medical insurance is a big deal.

     In an earlier posting, I told about being operated on for prostate cancer. You can’t just walk into the Emergency Room and say, “Well, I have prostate (or breast or any other kind of ) cancer” and expect to have it taken care of, no sweat.. It’s going to cost you. Plenty.

     I recall once having foot surgery late in the day. I was still too woozy to handle the crutches when it was over, so the doc recommended that I spend the night in the hospital and then go home the next morning. When I saw the hospital’s bill for that – a bed for the night and a ham sandwich for dinner – I was astounded. It was as if my entire family had checked into a suite at the Ritz-Carlton, ordered room service and then completely cleaned out the mini-bar.

     Fortunately, I was still employed when my foot and cancer were treated. The medical insurance that my employer and I paid into took care of the bills. That’s one reason I continued working as long as I did, to age 70, to have that insurance guarantee. Having medical insurance helps you sleep better at night, ham sandwich or no.

     So I’d recommend doing whatever it takes for you to get and keep medical insurance while you’re working. And, if you can, put some money aside for when you’re not. Once you retire, you’re still going to need supplemental insurance to cover what Medicare doesn’t. Without such insurance, the gap between what Medicare pays for and what you’ll owe the medical establishment can be substantial. You wouldn’t want a serious illness to completely wipe out the finances of you and your family.

     Which insurance plan is best? That’s your call. I only know what I’d want for myself in the best of all possible worlds.

     No, not the Democrats’ Obamacare. No, not the Republicans’ Wedon’tcare. What I’d really want is Congresscare. Right. I want the medical insurance that our Representatives and Senators give themselves. I want the medical insurance that’s good enough for John Boehner and Mitch McConnell and Michele Bachmann and Dianne Feinstein and Barbara Boxer and Nancy Pelosi. If it’s good enough for them, it should be good enough for us, the taxpayers who’re footing the bill. They’re not better than we are, are they? I don’t think I’m better than they are. Equality is all I ask, one citizen to another.. Fair’s fair. I’m not greedy.

     And until they’re willing to give us that, or a reasonable equivalent, I’d like to have them all just shut up.

    

Bad Stuff

     Getting older, unfortunately, can be more than just a series of aches and pains, skim blotches and gray hair. Sometimes major Bad Stuff happens.

     Prostate cancer, for example. I had my encounter with the Big C when I was still in my sixties. I went in for my annual checkup – something everyone needs to do, no exceptions -- and the doc said there appeared to be a spike in my PSA (prostate specific antigen) reading. A subsequent biopsy confirmed that I had a cancerous tumor in my prostate gland. Not the sort of news you want to hear.

     If I’d had that diagnosis later – this year, for example, when I’m 75 – and the cancer appeared to be slow-growing, I probably wouldn’t do anything about it. The medics figure that something else would probably kill me first, before the prostate cancer had a chance. But my diagnosis came earlier, the cancer was fast-growing, and something had to be done. So I checked my options.

     The good news is that there are a number of options. The bad news is that there are a number of options. There’s not one clear favorite, and all can have unpleasant side effects, most commonly incontinence and impotence. In this instance, the I’s definitely don’t have it.

      One option is implanting radioactive seeds in the prostate. Another is bombarding the tumor with highly-targeted beams of radiation, guided by a different type of implants. There’s also surgical removal of the prostate, and the tumor with it.

I chose the latter, with the operation performed by a top surgeon who specializes in keeping connected as many of the nerves around the prostate as possible.

     Major surgery never is fun, but mine worked. For the past 12 years, my tests have come back cancer free. No more doctors need to put on that rubber glove. I don’t need to wear adult diapers. I’ll never be a father again (no prostate, no sperm), but I wasn’t planning to be. And all my important other equipment still works, although it occasionally takes a nudge from Levitra. Never thought I’d be paying for sex, pill by pill, but it’s worth it.

     My major take-away from this is the importance of those yearly checkups, no matter your gender. I’ve heard people say, “Oh, they scare me. I don’t want to hear any bad news.” Believe me, the scarier news would be to hear, “Yes, you have cancer but it’s too late to fix. If only we’d caught it earlier.”

     Cancer isn’t a death sentence if discovered in time. Take the Bad Stuff seriously.

    

    

Skin Game II

     I don't want you to think that I'm hung up on skin in this Preview of Coming Distractions, but hey, skin is the largest organ in the human body. Here in California, we show a lot of it, not that there's anything wrong with that. But that means you'll need to take into account two things: sunscreen and hats.
     I didn't use sunscreen when I was younger. There wasn't sunscreen, except the white zinc oxide used only by lifeguards. As a result, the sun -- that big, bright, beautiful ball of radiation -- did a number on my skin that I'm now seeing in my later years. Small, reddish spots appear on my hide, or rough patches. My dermatologist tells me that these are keratoses: -- sun damage that, if left untreated, could turn into something more serious, like cancer. So twice a year she zaps my fair Teutonic skin with what looks like the kind of blowtorch that chefs use to brown creme brulee. Actually, the blowtorch contains liquid nitrogen. It freezes my keratoses off. Not all that pleasant while it's happening, but necessary.
     And now I wear sunscreen, of course. So should you -- at least SPF 40 or above, I'm told. It should prevent any further damage to your tender epidermis. Doesn't do a thing for the damage already done, unfortunately. It's cumulative. The keratoses will continue to appear, like reminders of good times gone bad.
     Sometimes,  the spots turn out to be basal cell carcinoma. That's actual cancer. It requires surgery to remove, but dermatologists and plastic surgeons today are very good at that. I show no scars,  nor should you.
     The worst kind of skin cancer is melanoma. Hope you never get it. Use that sunscreen. Have all suspicious spots looked at by a pro.
     And hats. You may be noticing that the hair on your head isn't as thick as it once was. If it's there at all. Wearing hats outdoors will keep the sun off that pate of yours. Wide-brimmed hats keep the sun off your ears, too, which are often overlooked targets for sun damage (as are the backs of your hands). Wearing baseball-style caps the right way keeps the sun off your face, at least. Wearing them backwards does nothing except make you look somewhat dim.
     And I mentioned in a previous post that I wished I'd invested 10 years ago in a company that would make body lotion for men's dry skin. Missed that window of opportunity. But today I'd like to suggest someone invent a leave-in hair conditioner that has a 40 SPF. Rub it on your head, it makes your hair behave and keeps your scalp safe from the sun without a hat. I'd invest in that. Let's get rich together.

When I retired after 40 years of writing columns for the Mercury News, I figured I'd said about all I could say. Wrong. I've realized that at age 75, I'm about 10 years older than the oldest baby boomers, who are now turning 65. My very average body has had a lot of experiences in those 10 years. I've learned a lot that could be helpful to people just starting on that same path -- what to do, what to avoid, what to keep an eye on.. Consider me your canary-in-the-coalmine for the boomer generation. Tune in regularly for the heads-up advice.

Such as:

DRY SKIN: You're probably noticing that yours isn't as baby-soft as it was when, well, you were a baby. I started seeing this when I was 65. Actually, my dermatologist saw it first. "Man, you're really dry," she told me. "Start using a lotion. Please!" She was looking at my shins at the time, seeing the pile of dry skin flakes around my ankles that had fallen when I took off my socks. Embarrassing. Women typically take better care of their skin, using all sorts of oils, lotions and unguents that advertisers bombard them about. Men, not so much. But we need just as much help. I thought at the time it would be smart for me to buy stock in a cosmetic company that would offer dry-skin lotion for men. Get in early, get a big hunk of market share by the time the baby boomers came along. But I didn't, and I'm still kicking myself (in my now, not-so-dry shins). Some companies now have started selling men's lotions, and I could have had a part of that. Darn. I use a body lotion all over, every day, right after my shower. One called Cetaphil works for me. It has no scent, so I don't end up smelling like a fragile flower. Maybe it would work for you, but there are a lot of choices. The big thing is: Use the lotion. Make your dermatologist happy. Make yourself happy by not being so itchy in strange places (like the aforementioned shins). And then maybe your spouse won't enter you in a flower show exhibit as a dried arrangement.