MAN CARD, VALIDATED!

This is a “rerun”. The Thanksgiving day death of one of two Guardsmen, shot in DC on 26 November 2025, has set me to thinking about Duty, and Manliness.

I was reminded of this, considerably less dramatic, story of Manhood. here you go!

The other day, I was chatting with my MA. I was extolling the virtues of the dealership that I usually patronize, citing their honesty, and times when they had indeed gone over and above to ensure that I, or my family, had been in fact cared for effectively.

She told me a story. Several years ago, she was very, very pregnant with one of her children. Her vehicle had a low tire, that would not hold air. She went to a tire chain in her town, one whose name promised diminutive prices.

Times were hard, at that time, for her family. She requested that the tire be repaired, and she would be on her way.

The tire technician noted sidewall damage, which is unrepairable. The service advisor told her this, and noted that a new tire would cost something on the order of $200. She did not have $200. They informed her that driving on that tire would be terribly hazardous, presenting an ongoing threat of sudden failure.

She told me, “I was on my phone, in the waiting room, talking to my husband, and we were trying to figure out what we were going to do. I was in tears, when the service advisor walked out, handed me a paper, and said, ‘You’re all set, ma’am.”

I asked him how much I owed him, and he told me, “Nothing.” I asked him how could that be.

He told me, “Ma’am, I simply could not let you drive on that tire. I paid for it for you. Have a nice day!”

Customer Service, (SPIT!), Again

For whatever reason, I am a frequent flier at my friendly neighborhood cardiologists’ office. (No, I had this problem before Covid was A Thing)
So, once I noticed that I was having to work harder than I thought was proper, after exertion that I thought was sort of trivial (as in, ascending the stairs with a basket of laundry), I arranged to chat with cardiology.

I saw one of the midlevels in the office, and recounted my present experience, and set that in the context of my previous (atypical presentation) experience with my angina/narrowed cardiac arteries.

That worthy basically said, “Hmm. So, this present experience sort of mirrors your experience with previous cardiac caths, which were associated with significant arterial stenosis. I betcha you would benefit from another cath, which might result in yet another stent to add to your collection!”

And, so was it done.

For those not steeped in The Mysteries Of Cardiac Caths, a long narrow tube (a catheter) is threaded into the left atrium (upper chamber of the heart), and from there into the cardiac arteries (which originate from the left atrium). Once there, x ray contrast dye is injected, and images captured, establishing the free flowing nature of your arteries (or, so one would hope!), or, alternately, the fact of constriction and the degree of that constriction.

Should a sufficient degree of constriction exist, the catheter is threaded into that narrowed portion, and a balloon is inflated (with sterile saline), opening up that part of the artery.

When it works, and the artery remains open, Yahtze! (er, I mean, Score!). The cardiologist moves along to whatever other matter appears to be part of today’s investigation.

If it does not remain open, the doctor will place a stent to keep it open.

By the way, that dye is hard on one’s kidneys. If one is a geezer, as I am, and has marginally performing kidneys, as I do, the doctor has to limit the exposure your kidneys have to this dye. This fact meant that during my Fun! Time! In the Cath lab in August, only the higher problem constrictions were addressed, so as to limit the amount of metaphorical pain my kidneys would experience.

Since there was another artery significantly narrowed, it was medically reasonable and prudent that I have a rematch, once my kidneys had quit (again metaphorically) glowing.

I had that cath, did not require another stent, and we all lived happily ever after.

But, WAIT!

I subsequently, like 6 weeks subsequently, received a letter from my insurance company that asserted that my second stent was NOT “medically necessary”. (as an aside, I am unable to imagine who the frack would have a cardiac cath for giggles. I mean, rilly?!?)

I called the “customer service” number, and the soul who answered me led me to conclude that their call center is located (a) in Bagwanistan, and staffed by (b) retards.

The first chucklehead with whom I spoke, could not grasp the concept that “You assholes told me that my cath was not medically necessary, an opinion not shared by my, oh, gosh, CARDIOLOGIST, who, himself, kind of WENT TO SCHOOL FOR THIS VERY SORT OF DECISION MAKING!

After 10 or 15 minutes of trying to communicate this to Young Bagwanistanian Einstein, I asked to speak to a supervisor. Repeatedly.

Conveniently enough, Einstein’s supervisor was not available, a fact shared with me after several minutes on ignore. Einstein offered to transfer me to “authorizations”, and I requested that he do so.

The next genius made Einstein appear to be a Mensa member. We go to the point of her revealing that her records asserted that I had $2.96 yet to pay on my “individual out of pocket maximum”, and therefore would owe $1789 or some such as my copay for the second, contested, cath.
Ms. Mensa related that we had a family out of pocket maximum of $7,000, and that I had pain $3497 toward deductible and co pays, and The Darling Wife-Mark II had paid $3,500 toward hers.

I asked how it worked that I owed $1789, when my out of pocket maximum was $2.96 short of the contractual amount.

“Well, that is an aggregate amount. Until you have paid your deductible, and your co insurance (read: “co pay”), and the both of you have paid $7,000, you still have to pay your co pay”

I asked Ms. Mensa what the phrase “individual out of pocket maximum” meant? Since My understanding was that I would pay my deductible until my deductible amount had been paid, and thereafter I would pay 20% of the bill, until I had paid my individual out of pocket maximum, which was $3500. At that point, per my explanation of coverage that I received when I signed up for this insurance, I would not pay anything for covered services.

Oh, no, Ms. Mensa corrected me. “Out of pocket maximum” was aggregate, and we would have to pay $7,000, before the “no more out of pocket costs” coverage would begin.

I asked her to tell me what the phrase “Individual out of pocket maximum” meant? And, if there was no non aggregate out of pocket maximum coverage, why would your attorneys include such confusing language?

“Let me place you on a brief hold”.

SEVERAL minutes later, she came back on the line. “That out of pocket maximum is an aggregate. You have to have paid $7,000 for the two of you before your out of pocket maximun applies”.

So, The Darling Wife Mark II got to see That Face When You get to school the insurance lady, on a not particularly obtuse item of insurance coverage, which even the cardiologists’ office as well as the hospital at which my cath took place, are able to understand.

Like the difference between “individual” and “family”, and the different out-of-pocket maximums that contractually apply.

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT!

Ladies and Gentlemen! Please strive to live by these six Rules For Living. Endeavor to surround yourself with folks who live by these rules, themselves.

Again, I invoke the Bagwan Rajneesh Farnum’s Aphorism Of The Stupids:  Do not go Stupid places, with Stupid people, to do Stupid things, at Stupid times of day.  Don’t act Stupid, and try not to look Stupid.

IYKYK. Otherwise, please consider it a suggestion.

Myself, I believe I do pretty well. Perhaps, I could improve in the “Don’t act Stupid” part, although geezer level stupid, and young buck level stupid are altogether different.

THANKSGIVING

I read on Thanksgiving day that one of two National Guard members shot on 26 November 2025 in DC, died today. She was 20 years old.

The news report that I read today (11/27), asserted that an Guard officer making rounds on his troops, was nearby, and attacked the shooter, ARMED WITH A POCKET KNIFE.

Consider that for a moment. Yeah, why the fenomenon did that officer not have a sidearm? That aside, what sort of full on balls does it take to attack an armed asshole, who had just shot two armed Guardsmen, when you only have a pocket knife?

Takes the turn of phrase, “bringing a knife to a gunfight”, to a entirely new level.

And, decisively stopping the shooting. Well done, sir!

It caused me to consider that, for her family, “Thanksgiving” will never, ever, have the same meaning as it once had.

For me, it reminds me of General Patton’s statement, “It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.”

In this context, Thank you God, for the officer who attacked a GUNMAN with a knife. Thank you, God, for folks who stand, take the oath, and say, in whatever words, “You! Evil! Halt! Yeah, YOU! *I* am going to stop you! You are NOT getting past me! I may live, I may die, but, I swear, YOU are stopping, HERE!”

Thank you, God, for families who raise MEN (and, today, WOMEN) who are willing to stand, to hold, to make sure that evil is halted before it can harm the vulnerable.

These three: that Specialist, that Sergeant, that Major, took that stand today. Others, law enforcement, firefighters, medics, soldiers, sailors, airmen, marines, coast guardsmen, are standing today.

God, Thank you for all of them. God, please protect them. God, please give comfort to their families, today and everyday.

And, in that context, all my stupid little stories, pale.

I’m Already in Favor of Globull Warmening, You Don’t Have to Sell Me!