"Health Care in Crisis"; "Dr.'s Submit Resignations", "Wait Times Are a Long Time" - Headlines, such as these, are commonplace to those of us residing in the Province of Newfoundland and Labrador. For the past several months, if not years, they have appeared, almost daily, in newspapers, on internet news sites, as well as on the CBC and NTV evening news. The best minds in the medical profession, our befuddled Minister of Health, and a copious number of bureaucrats have searched continuously for the answer that will improve the health of our medical system. The answer has eluded them all.
I believe I have found the solution. Let me provide some background before I let the "cat out of the bag".
Two members of my family had serious medical issues befall them in the previous two weeks. While on a walk, family member #1 suffered chest pains. As the human tendency is to minimize such happening, a doctor was not immediately consulted. Laboured breathing during the night changed that and a trip to the doctor was a priority the following morning. FM #1 was admitted and a battery of tests was completed, which included blood work, xrays, and an ultrasound. Two cardiology specialists from the United States were consulted to review the findings and to offer additional opinions. The diagnosis is that FM#1 suffers from congestive heart failure. FM#1 is now resting comfortably at home and is feeling much better, aided by a large number of daily medications. The doctors were wonderful and have made several telephone calls inquiring about the well being of FM#1 and have also told us to call should we have any questions or concerns. To our surprise, the doctors say they will be available 24 hours a day for us.
Our family was so impressed by the swiftness of care and the compassion displayed by the clinic that an appointment was made for FM#2 to see the doctor. FM#2's situation was not as acute, but concerned constant pain and inflammation in one shoulder. The initial examination took place within one day of making the appointment. The following day, xrays were taken and discussed with the family. Surgery was anticipated, but the doctor first wanted FM#2 to be seen by a specialist to ensure that was the best course of care. Two days later, the specialist met FM#2 and confirmed that surgery would be required. Low and behold, again to our amazement, an appointment for the procedure was set for two days hence. FM#2 had the invasive and complicated surgery two days ago. The surgery required general anesthetic, but FM#2 seems to have come through it nicely and is also recovering at home.
Two members of my family received prompt and professional medical care. Does this sound like the doom and gloom picture being painted by the media of our province? Okay, I do have one admission to make. Our family paid cold, hard cash to get the care that we did. When those you love are hurting, then what good is having money in the bank? As the saying goes, “Without our health, we have nothing.” I don’t mind sharing with you what getting this care cost us. After all, you may find yourself in a similar situation and perhaps this knowledge will lessen the fears and uncertainty you will be facing. FM#1’s care was $2000 and FM#2’s was a few dollars more than $3000. Perhaps better planning and foresight could have saved us some money in the long run if we had purchased premium insurance plans. Very few of us ever think that things like this will happen to us, so insurance often seems like a waste of money. I may have to spend some time in the near future investigating these insurance polices, but I still remain skeptical.
Okay, in the name of full disclosure and honesty, I do have one more admission. FM#1 and FM#2 are Jasper and Jack, respectively. Jasper is my four year old large breed mutt and Jack is my brother’s eight year old Golden Retriever. They are as much a part of our family as I am (and probably a whole lot more huggable). I know I have been pulling your proverbial leg, but think about it for a second. Veterinarians have extensive medical training. People are animals too. We just like to think of ourselves as having evolved beyond our companions who share the planet with us. A vet can do blood tests, check blood pressure, and even work have urine and stool checked out. I’m just scratching the surface of their knowledge and abilities. Vet clinics even have the same diagnostic equipment as is used in human medicine and their machines are probably newer and of better quality.
If I ever needed a medical procedure and was offered the choice of waiting for 6 months or 6 days, I just may choose to go see my neighbourhood vet. If I do go there, I will have to think twice if they ever want me to wear a cone around my neck to prevent me from being able to lick places that I shouldn’t. Then again, any place that gives its patients a belly rub and a crunchy treat before sending them on their way can’t be all bad. I can see the headlines in the Telegram now – “NL Health Care System Gone to the Dogs”.
Friday, May 06, 2011
Thursday, May 05, 2011
Crystal Can Be Costly
There's a business meeting going on at the table next to where I'm sitting. It must be a sales type meeting because this one guy has not stopped talking ever since I started eavesdropping fifteen minutes ago. I can actually only see the talker because there is a post blocking my view. I can only assume there is someone else seated with the talker, as I have yet to hear any noise from behind the post. Maybe he's practicing his pitch. From what I've heard so far, not bad.
I think the talker is some type of mortgage broker. He is slinging around fancy financial terms like fixed versus variable rates, amortization, and four year versus five year terms. He thinks homeowners would save a lot of money if they chose shorter terms for their mortgages. According to him, 90% of people with a five year term end up breaking their mortgage and paying the substantial penalties. The banks are the ones getting richer because of our failure to understand human nature. I'm listening because I am genuinely interested. Personal finance stuff has been a hobby of mine since the early 1990's.
About the same time Lynda and I were buying out first home, which was in prestigious Oakville, Ontario, I was also lucky enough to have a highly specialized duty as a RCMP officer. I was responsible for protecting foreign diplomats and their families. I was so good at sitting in my white and blue police cruiser, as it was parked on beautiful tree lined streets in upscale Toronto neighbourhoods, that no terrorist would dare think of lashing out at our foreign guests. Even neighbours would think twice about running next door to ask for a cup of sugar. The Mounties were on duty and we were vigilant! Remember, this was a decade before the Twin Towers fell on September 11th. My stint in that unit even predated one of the first home grown terrorist acts, the Oklahoma City bombing. Terrorism used to be a very foreign word to North Americans. Okay, I may be exaggerating a little about my extreme vigilance. I actually learned to keep one eye peeled for suspicious activity, while keeping the other eye fixed on the pages of the books I enjoyed. Many of these were finance books. I will always fondly remember my first - The Wealthy Barber, by David Chilton. It's a must read for anyone over the age of fifteen.
I'm somewhat of an expert when it comes to money matters. Here are a few things that I have learned over the years: (1) don't purchase mortgage life insurance from your bank. It is generally more expensive and the payout actually declines as you pay down your mortgage. It is so much better to purchase a term life policy.
(2) managing investments is much more difficult than it appears. I've made just about every mistake possible. I've been sold products I didn't need, have been overcharged on commissions, and I had sleepless nights when I tried to self-manage my account and those of family and friends.
My main issue with investing, and with all financial decisions, is that you need a crystal ball in order to do it right. We make decisions today based on what we think things will be like at various points in the future. I have yet to come across a strategy that has the 100% flexibility needed to match life's ever changing circumstances. When kids come along, do you start putting away money for their education, pay off debt, or live a little? All of the commercials and articles make you out as a bad parent if you can't pay for some, if not all, of your kids' post secondary education. They're telling us that all you need is $50,000 or so per kid. No sweat! Here's another of life's hurdles. When mom had to turn her RRSP into a RRIF upon turning 71and wanted some income from her investments, even my "expertise" meet its match. Mom deserved the best, the government wanted its share, and I was confused. I don't own a crystal ball and I have never actually seen one.
Instead of smashing crystal, through sheer frustration, after making bad decision after bad decision, you need to focus on preventing seven years (and decades) of bad luck by finding a trusted professional. Unfortunately, that is easier said than done. Many are great people and superb advisers, but the companies they work for mandate a sales approach versus a client based approach. The adviser's success is based on generating revenue for the firm and not in making and saving money for the client. I have no issue with paying money for solid advice and guidance, but my welfare must come before that of the adviser. God knows I have lost enough money over the years, despite my well meaning intentions, so paying someone who is on my side should actually save me money.
I am now truly a financial expert. It happened the moment I found the right person to look after the financial affairs of my family. I get to drop by his office a couple of times a year for a cup of tea. I get to banter back and forth on the latest financial trends, which helps me feel like I'm retaining my expert status. I may even recommend a few good stocks that I heard being discussed at my favourite coffee shop. That's where the adviser is invaluable. When I was the boss, I could buy a stock simply by logging onto the internet. Thousand of shares of Nortel, Enron and Bre-X could be had with a few simple clicks of the mouse. Investing was fun and somewhat reminiscent of playing those video gaming machines that can be found in every pub and bar in Newfoundland. Now you see your money - now you don't. My adviser has taken the fun out of my investing and I'm so much better off because of it.
Mr. Talker seems to be wrapping up his presentation. He sure can talk! He must be intelligent. I'd be crazy not to follow his advice. I think I'll call my adviser and have him start the paperwork to get me out of my five year mortgage term. It'll cost a bit, but Mr. Talker says it's worth it. Wait a moment.... I just happen to get a glance of his business card when it fell on the floor beside my desk.. eh, table. I may want to rethink following his advice. His business card read "Mr. Talker, VP of Sales & Marketing, The Crystal Ball Company of Canada."
I think the talker is some type of mortgage broker. He is slinging around fancy financial terms like fixed versus variable rates, amortization, and four year versus five year terms. He thinks homeowners would save a lot of money if they chose shorter terms for their mortgages. According to him, 90% of people with a five year term end up breaking their mortgage and paying the substantial penalties. The banks are the ones getting richer because of our failure to understand human nature. I'm listening because I am genuinely interested. Personal finance stuff has been a hobby of mine since the early 1990's.
About the same time Lynda and I were buying out first home, which was in prestigious Oakville, Ontario, I was also lucky enough to have a highly specialized duty as a RCMP officer. I was responsible for protecting foreign diplomats and their families. I was so good at sitting in my white and blue police cruiser, as it was parked on beautiful tree lined streets in upscale Toronto neighbourhoods, that no terrorist would dare think of lashing out at our foreign guests. Even neighbours would think twice about running next door to ask for a cup of sugar. The Mounties were on duty and we were vigilant! Remember, this was a decade before the Twin Towers fell on September 11th. My stint in that unit even predated one of the first home grown terrorist acts, the Oklahoma City bombing. Terrorism used to be a very foreign word to North Americans. Okay, I may be exaggerating a little about my extreme vigilance. I actually learned to keep one eye peeled for suspicious activity, while keeping the other eye fixed on the pages of the books I enjoyed. Many of these were finance books. I will always fondly remember my first - The Wealthy Barber, by David Chilton. It's a must read for anyone over the age of fifteen.
I'm somewhat of an expert when it comes to money matters. Here are a few things that I have learned over the years: (1) don't purchase mortgage life insurance from your bank. It is generally more expensive and the payout actually declines as you pay down your mortgage. It is so much better to purchase a term life policy.
(2) managing investments is much more difficult than it appears. I've made just about every mistake possible. I've been sold products I didn't need, have been overcharged on commissions, and I had sleepless nights when I tried to self-manage my account and those of family and friends.
My main issue with investing, and with all financial decisions, is that you need a crystal ball in order to do it right. We make decisions today based on what we think things will be like at various points in the future. I have yet to come across a strategy that has the 100% flexibility needed to match life's ever changing circumstances. When kids come along, do you start putting away money for their education, pay off debt, or live a little? All of the commercials and articles make you out as a bad parent if you can't pay for some, if not all, of your kids' post secondary education. They're telling us that all you need is $50,000 or so per kid. No sweat! Here's another of life's hurdles. When mom had to turn her RRSP into a RRIF upon turning 71and wanted some income from her investments, even my "expertise" meet its match. Mom deserved the best, the government wanted its share, and I was confused. I don't own a crystal ball and I have never actually seen one.
Instead of smashing crystal, through sheer frustration, after making bad decision after bad decision, you need to focus on preventing seven years (and decades) of bad luck by finding a trusted professional. Unfortunately, that is easier said than done. Many are great people and superb advisers, but the companies they work for mandate a sales approach versus a client based approach. The adviser's success is based on generating revenue for the firm and not in making and saving money for the client. I have no issue with paying money for solid advice and guidance, but my welfare must come before that of the adviser. God knows I have lost enough money over the years, despite my well meaning intentions, so paying someone who is on my side should actually save me money.
I am now truly a financial expert. It happened the moment I found the right person to look after the financial affairs of my family. I get to drop by his office a couple of times a year for a cup of tea. I get to banter back and forth on the latest financial trends, which helps me feel like I'm retaining my expert status. I may even recommend a few good stocks that I heard being discussed at my favourite coffee shop. That's where the adviser is invaluable. When I was the boss, I could buy a stock simply by logging onto the internet. Thousand of shares of Nortel, Enron and Bre-X could be had with a few simple clicks of the mouse. Investing was fun and somewhat reminiscent of playing those video gaming machines that can be found in every pub and bar in Newfoundland. Now you see your money - now you don't. My adviser has taken the fun out of my investing and I'm so much better off because of it.
Mr. Talker seems to be wrapping up his presentation. He sure can talk! He must be intelligent. I'd be crazy not to follow his advice. I think I'll call my adviser and have him start the paperwork to get me out of my five year mortgage term. It'll cost a bit, but Mr. Talker says it's worth it. Wait a moment.... I just happen to get a glance of his business card when it fell on the floor beside my desk.. eh, table. I may want to rethink following his advice. His business card read "Mr. Talker, VP of Sales & Marketing, The Crystal Ball Company of Canada."
Wednesday, May 04, 2011
Driven By Distraction
I'm at the office this morning. I drove here specifically to write today's story. I left my house to do this, even though I would have been the only one at home. Peace and quiet would have been assured. It is also a beautiful day here in the North Atlantic, so my inspirational ocean view would not have been obscured by ground hugging fog or driving rain that makes looking through the windows like peering into a Coke bottle.
There is something comforting about being around people. The hustle and bustle of people coming here to satisfy their craving for an exotic sounding coffee, to rendezvous with clients and friends, or to take advantage of free wireless help me focus and stir my creativity. The Wednesday morning Scrabble club is here, albeit in diminished numbers. I overheard the ladies say that the gardening ladies won't be back until the fall. One of the ladies just connected two words and scored sixteen. Her opponents are very impressed. I've just proven my point. Had I remained at home to write, I would have missed out on one of the most dramatic moments in the history of the Starbucks Scrabble Society.
Being able to concentrate in this type of environment has been a skill of mine since childhood. Homework was always tackled while the TV blared in the background. As commercials played during episodes of Happy Days, Gilligan's Island and Get Smart, I would usually manage to bang off a few math problems, some grammar and maybe even read a chapter of World History. My marks were always pretty good, so I guess mom and dad decided this was one battle not worth fighting. Even when I became a teen and thought parents were uncool and siblings a necessary evil, I would hide away in my room and study while listening to the radio or the Commodores on 8 track. To those of you old enough to remember the forerunner to cassettes and CD's, I wonder why we put up with an invention that allowed half of a song to be on one track and the rest of it on another. Now, it's fun to reminisce, but back in the day it was annoying. I guess 8 track players were more portable than record players and they didn't skip as we discoed around the floor like John Travolta (in Saturday Night Fever, not Grease).
My younger brother Bill turned out to be even better at studying by distraction than me. To this day, some of his friends comment to me about his ability to excel in, what many would consider, chaotic conditions. I always take some of the credit for Bill's prowess. Whether our older brother, Gord, has this ability is still a mystery. Gord would have had to study to find out. I'm not sure what he was doing during commercials when he was a kid, but it certainly wasn't conjugating the French verb etre. Perhaps not having an older mentor was his undoing. I certainly don't recall mom or dad studying. I can only surmise that Gord must have somehow laid the foundation for me and Bill. Thanks bro.
Kids today have even more distractions. The internet, cell phones, texting, and mini computer games are far more pervasive and compelling than Arthur Fonzarelli and Agent 86 (although not more than the stunningly beautiful Agent 99). Lynda and I have worked hard to teach our kids proper study habits. So far, they have been doing very well in school. Last week, ten year old Kendall was in her room and I thought she was doing homework. As I walked down the hallway, I could feel the music coming from her bedroom as much as I could hear it. To go along with that, her multicoloured disco ball was twirling and the only other light came from a small reading lamp at the head of her bed. The place had the feel of the Strand Lounge of the 1980's, minus the smell and alcohol. Kendall didn't see me enter. I turned her music off and was about to say something profoundly fatherly, when she turned abruptly and said "Daddy! I need that on, I'm studying."
There is something comforting about being around people. The hustle and bustle of people coming here to satisfy their craving for an exotic sounding coffee, to rendezvous with clients and friends, or to take advantage of free wireless help me focus and stir my creativity. The Wednesday morning Scrabble club is here, albeit in diminished numbers. I overheard the ladies say that the gardening ladies won't be back until the fall. One of the ladies just connected two words and scored sixteen. Her opponents are very impressed. I've just proven my point. Had I remained at home to write, I would have missed out on one of the most dramatic moments in the history of the Starbucks Scrabble Society.
Being able to concentrate in this type of environment has been a skill of mine since childhood. Homework was always tackled while the TV blared in the background. As commercials played during episodes of Happy Days, Gilligan's Island and Get Smart, I would usually manage to bang off a few math problems, some grammar and maybe even read a chapter of World History. My marks were always pretty good, so I guess mom and dad decided this was one battle not worth fighting. Even when I became a teen and thought parents were uncool and siblings a necessary evil, I would hide away in my room and study while listening to the radio or the Commodores on 8 track. To those of you old enough to remember the forerunner to cassettes and CD's, I wonder why we put up with an invention that allowed half of a song to be on one track and the rest of it on another. Now, it's fun to reminisce, but back in the day it was annoying. I guess 8 track players were more portable than record players and they didn't skip as we discoed around the floor like John Travolta (in Saturday Night Fever, not Grease).
My younger brother Bill turned out to be even better at studying by distraction than me. To this day, some of his friends comment to me about his ability to excel in, what many would consider, chaotic conditions. I always take some of the credit for Bill's prowess. Whether our older brother, Gord, has this ability is still a mystery. Gord would have had to study to find out. I'm not sure what he was doing during commercials when he was a kid, but it certainly wasn't conjugating the French verb etre. Perhaps not having an older mentor was his undoing. I certainly don't recall mom or dad studying. I can only surmise that Gord must have somehow laid the foundation for me and Bill. Thanks bro.
Kids today have even more distractions. The internet, cell phones, texting, and mini computer games are far more pervasive and compelling than Arthur Fonzarelli and Agent 86 (although not more than the stunningly beautiful Agent 99). Lynda and I have worked hard to teach our kids proper study habits. So far, they have been doing very well in school. Last week, ten year old Kendall was in her room and I thought she was doing homework. As I walked down the hallway, I could feel the music coming from her bedroom as much as I could hear it. To go along with that, her multicoloured disco ball was twirling and the only other light came from a small reading lamp at the head of her bed. The place had the feel of the Strand Lounge of the 1980's, minus the smell and alcohol. Kendall didn't see me enter. I turned her music off and was about to say something profoundly fatherly, when she turned abruptly and said "Daddy! I need that on, I'm studying."
Monday, May 02, 2011
Osama Never Voted
Question - What's the difference between the American search for Osama Bin Laden and today's Canadian election and its search for a visionary to lead our country?
Answer - The Americans found what they were looking for and it only took 10 years.
The Conservative Party has been in power in Canada for the last five years. They continued and expanded on the policy of their predecessors, the Chretien/Martin Liberals, by sending our troops to Afghanistan to fight the enemy on its home turf. There is now a plan in place to bring most of our troops home in the near future, but that is likely to change should our enemy begin to turn the tide against us. As an election issue, the NDP are adamant that our troops be brought home immediately. It's a difficult call on what the correct approach should be. I do know that whoever wins today, be it Michael, Jack or Stephen, he needs to put political leanings aside and listen to the Canadian people - the silent majority are talking to you.
My kids will be 11 and 9 years old later this summer. They are growing up in a world that is vastly different than what my generation knew. The events of September 11th, 2001 changed the way we have been able to live. Before that day, North Americans always went "over there" to fight our battles. Wars and battles seemed more regional in scope and the enemy was usually easily identifiable. Now, we worry about our safety and the safety of our children as they roam our cities, towns and neighbourhoods.
The word used most often to describe this new warfare is "terror". We have terrorism, terrorists, terrorist cells, political terrorists, and ideological terrorists. Terror is defined as a state of intense fear. Living in a constant state of terror is no way to live.
At this morning's breakfast, I told my children about the finding and killing of Bin Laden. I believe it is better to be proactive on such matters and have my kids hear important and distressing news from their parents. It has to be more comforting to hear it from mom and dad versus the annotated version from the kid in sixth grade or overhearing the bus drivers surmise whether Bin Laden went down fighting or was he cowering in a hole like Saddam Hussein. We encourage them to ask questions and try to make something positive out of the brutality. Kendall and Avery often watch the evening news with Grammie, while waiting for Jeopardy to come on, so I wanted them to have some awareness and perspective on what took place before hearing about it from Fred Hutton of NTV.
I will have more long talks with the kids later today. I can't imagine how confusing it may be to a child to try and understand why so many people are happy when someone has been killed. I think I will also have to speak with them about the federal election. Just as Avery was leaving this morning, she asked inquisitively "So Stephen Harper may not be Prime Minister anymore?" Without much thought and without really considering that my audience was an eight year old, I replied "It's time for him to go. He is much too arrogant." It would have been easier for Avery if I had just used Danny Williams' previous election stance and said "That's right Avery. Stephen Harper may no longer be the Prime Minister. It's as simple as ABC." To an eight year old, and to everyone else, that would make sense. Be sure to get out and vote today.
Answer - The Americans found what they were looking for and it only took 10 years.
The Conservative Party has been in power in Canada for the last five years. They continued and expanded on the policy of their predecessors, the Chretien/Martin Liberals, by sending our troops to Afghanistan to fight the enemy on its home turf. There is now a plan in place to bring most of our troops home in the near future, but that is likely to change should our enemy begin to turn the tide against us. As an election issue, the NDP are adamant that our troops be brought home immediately. It's a difficult call on what the correct approach should be. I do know that whoever wins today, be it Michael, Jack or Stephen, he needs to put political leanings aside and listen to the Canadian people - the silent majority are talking to you.
My kids will be 11 and 9 years old later this summer. They are growing up in a world that is vastly different than what my generation knew. The events of September 11th, 2001 changed the way we have been able to live. Before that day, North Americans always went "over there" to fight our battles. Wars and battles seemed more regional in scope and the enemy was usually easily identifiable. Now, we worry about our safety and the safety of our children as they roam our cities, towns and neighbourhoods.
The word used most often to describe this new warfare is "terror". We have terrorism, terrorists, terrorist cells, political terrorists, and ideological terrorists. Terror is defined as a state of intense fear. Living in a constant state of terror is no way to live.
At this morning's breakfast, I told my children about the finding and killing of Bin Laden. I believe it is better to be proactive on such matters and have my kids hear important and distressing news from their parents. It has to be more comforting to hear it from mom and dad versus the annotated version from the kid in sixth grade or overhearing the bus drivers surmise whether Bin Laden went down fighting or was he cowering in a hole like Saddam Hussein. We encourage them to ask questions and try to make something positive out of the brutality. Kendall and Avery often watch the evening news with Grammie, while waiting for Jeopardy to come on, so I wanted them to have some awareness and perspective on what took place before hearing about it from Fred Hutton of NTV.
I will have more long talks with the kids later today. I can't imagine how confusing it may be to a child to try and understand why so many people are happy when someone has been killed. I think I will also have to speak with them about the federal election. Just as Avery was leaving this morning, she asked inquisitively "So Stephen Harper may not be Prime Minister anymore?" Without much thought and without really considering that my audience was an eight year old, I replied "It's time for him to go. He is much too arrogant." It would have been easier for Avery if I had just used Danny Williams' previous election stance and said "That's right Avery. Stephen Harper may no longer be the Prime Minister. It's as simple as ABC." To an eight year old, and to everyone else, that would make sense. Be sure to get out and vote today.
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