Confronting the ‘monsters’ of agingBy DEWEY PARR
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One of my fondest memories goes back to when I was
6 and 7 years old growing up on Hatteras Island. Those were the
days when we played monster. What fun we had. Those
imaginary monsters roamed the maritime forest and sprung up from the
depths of the sea. In our mind’s eye, our sea monsters
usually had the head of a dragon and the body of a serpent. We
just naturally assumed this was the way it ought to be. We had
seen maps with dragons pictured pursuing the ships. In the woods, we
kids often hid behind the trunks of the oak and pine trees.
We would jump out, pretending to be a monster. We envisioned our
woods-monsters with big feet and fur, so sometimes we would stick pine
straw around our bodies. Of course, we did all the things that an
imaginary monster should do -- walking stiff legged, growling, and gnashing teeth as if we were going to gobble you up. What fun those days were when my monsters were imaginary. Now I am still on my island paradise. I am no longer 6 or 7. I am 76. The big difference now is that my monsters are not imaginary but real. At this age, my monsters would consume me without hesitation. They figure I am too weak to run or fight back. My monsters are coming out of a society that seems to feel that anyone over 65 has little or no worth. We are too costly to governments, big business, and health care providers to maintain. If my monsters had their way, they would fire up the incinerator and march all of us Medicare-age people into it. At my age, Hatteras Island monsters appear in many different forms -- the high cost of living, tax bills, utilities, gasoline. And the list goes on and on. When I go to the store, I ask myself how families are surviving with the cost of groceries. When we go out to eat and we see a tourist family with two or three children at a table, we wonder how they can afford to pay the prices for their meals. When we get our monster of tax bills that we have to pay for just having property on the island, we shudder. Monsters are everywhere, but probably the largest one that looms out there for anyone past 65 is the Monster of Health Care. I recently found what a dangerous monster this can be. This monster can devastate you in a brief moment if you are not prepared to meet the challenge when it comes at you. This monster can destroy your livelihood and all future happiness. I say to all who are younger, get ready, for one day you will wake up as I did and wonder how I got to be 76. It’s not bad if you have a home paid for, money set aside for emergencies, hospitalization, and a prescription plan that covers you, but if you are without it, the monster will get you. I had been hearing about this Health Care Monster from the many islanders who sit and talk with me in the swing under the old oak tree at the Old Gray House. 
I heard stories from some who are without insurance, and every time
they go to the doctor, it costs them. They try to treat
themselves using old-fashioned remedies. I hear horror stories
about what can happen to you if you are transported off the island by
the county’s Emergency Medical Services. One friend found
himself in a position where it cost somewhere in the range of
$8,000. Over the years, we have said goodbye to island friends
about our age who have moved from Hatteras because of the cost of
living and the constant battle with island monsters.Through no fault of our own, my wife and I found ourselves on July 1 with an insurance plan that was not acceptable to the island health care providers or the closest hospital. I, along with 36,000 other former employees of the state of West Virginia who are 65 or older, was arbitrarily placed under a Medicare Advantage private fee-for-service (PFFS) plan. I still have all the same benefits that were afforded me under Medicare and my supplement, but before I can get those benefits, my health provider must bill another company rather than Medicare. What a shock it was when this medical monster came to us by the way of a telephone call from the island medical clinic at which I had been receiving quality primary care informing me that my insurance would no longer be accepted. To make matters worse, this also applied to the closest hospital, which is located 50 miles from us. I contacted Emergency Medical Services and inquired as to where would they take us if we had a medical emergency. Another medical monster jumped out from behind the bushes -- the Emergency Transportation Monster. The answer came back, "We are obligated to take you to the Outer Banks Hospital." This meant that should we have an emergency, we would be up the creek, so to speak, if the hospital admitted us. The island’s medical centers and the Outer Banks Hospital are all part of University Health Systems, based in Greenville. Lo and behold, the unexpected happened to me. On Saturday, Aug. 18, I was attacked by an unexpected Personal Medical Emergency Monster. Early that morning, I encountered severe internal bleeding. I knew I was in trouble. If they put me in an ambulance and took me to the Outer Banks Hospital, I had to pay. This to me was a pay-or-die situation. A weekend on Hatteras Island is not the time to get sick. I had one alternative. I dialed 911 and said, “I have a medical emergency, and I don’t want you to come to me. I want you to get me in contact with my doctor.” Within five minutes, the doctor called me. I told him my problem, and he said, “You get someone to bring you to me as quickly as possible.” With the assistance of a dedicated doctor who cares about people, I was able to get to Sentara Norfolk General Hospital, which did not question my insurance but provided me the care I needed. I remained in that hospital for four days. Now, to make it possible for my wife and me to remain on the island I have loved since I was a child, I have encountered the Government Monster. This is the monster of getting a waiver for the county’s Emergency Medical Services to bypass the Outer Banks Hospital so we can go to others in the area that will accept our insurance. It appears our Government Monsters can be overwhelming. When you seek assistance, you find yourself becoming a villain in the eyes of some government workers. With the help of our Hatteras Island’s commissioner, Allen Burrus, we are going before the Dare County Board of Commissioners to seek a waiver for the 911 ambulance to bypass the Outer Banks Hospital and take us to Albemarle Hospital in Elizabeth City, where our insurance is accepted. The battle with this monster will definitely be a huge one, for we have only three minutes to state our case at the board meeting. We might not defeat this monster, but at least we will have the satisfaction of knowing we tried. Our personal health problems have become huge monsters. We now must go off the island for all primary care. Illnesses such as the flu are monsters looming in the dark. In order to handle these types of minor need for medical assistance, we now must drive 60 miles. We keep a full tank of gas in our car these days, for we never know when we might have to head off the island in the middle of the night to a primary care clinic in Nags Head that accepts our insurance. The biggest issue that now faces us daily is that if we to remain on this beautiful island, the monsters that were once imaginary will now be real. They confront every senior citizen, day in and out. I say to you who are younger and full of vim and vitality, “Get prepared for the monsters that await you after retirement age. If you don’t, you might become a monster to your children in your old age.” My wife and I both know what it means to be a caregiver to elderly parents. Is that what you want for your children? It is not any easy task for a working family to undertake. Be like our island squirrels and start laying aside a little extra for those long winter months that might just be right around the corner. Art Linkletter, a famous comedian, had it right when he said, "Old age isn’t for sissies." (Dewey Parr lives in Buxton, where he and his wife, Mary, own The Old Gray House.)  |