Things you learn when you reach retirement age

You learn to love McDonald's when you're retired.  Oh, you may have spurned it all your life, but not now.  You can get a senior coffee for fifty cents when you're on the road.  You can make a meal from their dollar menu:  two cheeseburgers, two apple pies, two waters:  $3 for two people.
You learn to whine, and even cry.  After my daddy died, I couldn't understand why my mom was always telling people on the street, and on the phone, "I'm just a poor old widow lady."  
Seriously, it was embarrassing.  
Fast forward to our retirement.  I'm not a widow, but I have learned to whine, and even turn on the tears when I can't seem to get any action from the Social Security people or the Medicare folks.  My phrase is this:  "We're living on a fixed income; what are we going to do if you don't help us?  We can't get by like this."    
When my granddaughter, Amber, was very young, her mom would dial me up and put my sweet little granddaughter on the phone.  "Hi, Amber," I'd say.   
"Hi Grandma," she'd answer in a perky, happy little high-pitched voice.  
"How are you, Amber?"  
Instantly she'd start crying and begin to tell me about all the injustices her mother had heaped upon her.  I never met anybody who could turn on the tears like Amber.  
And now I'm doing it.  
It's true!  I went to Walmart pharmacy to pick up the only prescription drug I take, for my blood pressure.  I was informed that Medicare Complete wanted our other provider to take care of it.  
We have no other provider, but I knew what was going on because I went through all this with Cliff a couple of weeks ago.  Through no fault of our own, we had been thrown in pharmaceutical jail.  
When it happened with Cliff, it was pretty urgent that we get that prescription that day.  He had taken his last one, and it was something the doctors seem to think he urgently needs.  It's no use to whine at the people working at Walmart, because it's none of their doing.  So I sat on a bench at Walmart for an hour, talking on the phone to Medicare, until I had it straightened out.  
For some reason, the insurance that Cliff had at his job was still listed as a provider, even though they cancelled him when he retired on July 6.  
Once we got him straightened out that day, I gave it no more thought.  That is, until I went for my prescription yesterday, and the same thing happened to me.   I was going to have to go through the same rigamarole for myself.  
My blood pressure meds are pretty cheap, even without insurance.  So I opted to pay $22 out of pocket and go to the comfort of my own home to deal with Medicare.  The lady at the pharmacy told me to keep my receipt; when we got it straightened out, she would run it through again and reimburse me.  
I called Medicare once, talked to some guy, and got cut off after thirty minutes.  I called again, and the lady who spoke with me said they would call me in twenty-four hours.  
They didn't.  
So this afternoon I called them again, and got a man who obviously could not have cared less.  His only advice was for me to call the pharmacy and see if "the flag" had been removed. 
I did, and it had not been.  
I went outside to the shop where Cliff is spiffing up the Oliver 1855 and told him, "I'm going to call one more time, and this time I'm going to cry."  
I did, and it worked.  
Once you're living on Social Security, all you need to do is mention the fixed income situation and start crying.  It works with Dish Network, Direct TV, and CenturyLink.  Best of all, it seems to work with Medicare.  
The flag has been removed and I'm out of pharmaceutical jail.  
I wonder if there are any job openings on soap operas.  I can cry at the drop of a hat, and I'll even drop the hat.

I reached the Social Security people!

Oh, it was a bit of a hassle; but I got along fine with the automated lady this time.  I pretended to be Cliff when I answered the automated questions, giving his SS number and his mother's maiden name, etc.  Then I was transferred immediately to a real person!  Oh, the joy!  
Now for the bad news.  Once I reached the real person, I was informed that Cliff will have to do the calling himself.  That means spending about three minutes with the automated person again.  At least I can do that part for him; I'll hand him the phone when the real live person answers.    
I did learn that since he has his own insurance and isn't on Social Security, he can sign up for Medicare part A, which costs him nothing.  Otherwise he'd have to pay $100 or so out of pocket each month.  
So I now have some answers.  
I believe my problem yesterday with not reaching a real person was that it was a Monday; the automated person told me there's a wait time if you call at the first of the week or the first of the month.  
Thank you so much for your helpful comments on this subject, and to Penny for the prayers.  Also a special shout-out to a cousin who called and gave me a backup number to use which would connect me immediately to a real person whose name she gave me; I decided not to use it unless I had to, but it's good to know it's here if I need it.  
And now to wake Cliff up and give him the good news.

So, I guess I'm really OLD now

Don't bother telling me age is only a state of mind. I know there's some truth to it, and I believe I manage to have about as much fun as anybody I know. But there are so many things telling me that, yes, I am old.

Medicare, for instance. I still have my husband's insurance where he works, and I also have Medicare Plus (which actually pays better on some things than Cliff's insurance). Today I went for my free welcome-to-Medicare checkup. The nice folks in my doctor's office were totally confused: They didn't know what to do, since I had both. The lady up front finally said, "I'll send it in to both and see what happens."

Another thing that made me realize I am indeed a senior citizen is the fact that my grandma was sixty-five when I was seven years old. I thought she was incredibly old! I recall one time checking out the life line on her palm, and finding it to be a relatively short one. I laughed and told her that couldn't possibly be right, because she already had a long life!

And here I am, sixty-five years old.

There's also the nagging knee pain that sometimes makes me feel very fragile. The knees only hurt when I'm standing or walking, though. Sitting or laying in bed, I am totally pain-free.

So, how did my checkup turn out? So far, so good. I have great bone density. Yay for me. I wasn't surprised to learn that I have high blood pressure; I had noticed it creeping up, the past few months, although that top number of 180 did shock me. Now I get to start taking pills for that. I'm crossing my fingers that the blood test results won't reveal any cholesterol problems, or diabetes. My mom had late-onset diabetes, but none of her siblings did, nor any of my dad's siblings.

Take a look at the name-my-calf contest. My son-in-law's choice, Sir Loin, is in the lead!

Just when I was enjoying my day...

It's official. I'm old, really old. I received my Medicare card today.

I think I need another motorcycle ride.

Medicare

One of Minnie Pearl's much-used jokes was this: "I'm too young for Medicare and too old for men-to-care."

It appears that I'm no longer too young for Medicare. At least, I won't be after April.

Thanks to the discussion and advice in the comment section of the entry where I asked advice for Pat, I'm much better educated. This just goes to show that when you reach out to help someone, you often receive help yourself in the process.

Ma said, "Even though I'm still working I was told to sign up for Medicare a and b as my insurance coverage changes to a different plan with 65 You might want to check on that with Cliff's coverage. I'd previously thought I get the same, but no, Medicare pays first then my work coverage pays 2nd."

Celeste said, "Listen to Ma. SS also advices you to sign up as you will have to wait until open enrollment if you do not sign up by 65th BD. Most employers insurance change when someone is 65. It usually becomes a supplement policy after that."

And Patsy said, "Donna when you are 65 sign up for medicare, I didn't because I had good insurance and was working. I reasoned even if I had to pay a deductible on my insurance it was better than paying insurance cost for medicare. Guess what when I stopped working the medicare charge was larger because I had not enrolled when I was 65."

So I called our insurance; they don't care if I sign up for Medicare or not. As long as Cliff carries this insurance, I am fully covered. So much for having to pay for Part B.

So I said to myself, "Why worry about it then? I'll wait until Cliff retires."

But your comments concerned me, so I went to the Medicare website.

Ah-HA! It looks like I do need to sign up for Medicare in the three-month period before I turn sixty-five. It appears to me that if I sign up for Medicare A, that won't cost me a cent. I'm sure the people at the Social Security office will advise me further; I'll write down all my questions before I visit them.

Thanks to all of you for your advice.

Do you have advice for my blogging friend?

I'll be sixty-five in July. So far I don't have to worry about Medicare because Cliff is working; so we have wonderful insurance.

If you have experience with Social Security and Medicare, Pat could surely use any advice you have for her.

Her blog entry is a wake-up call for me, since it wouldn't take much to put me in the same ill-fitting shoes she's wearing, only with three times the spending money she gets each month.

Go on over there and advise her if you can.