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.
Showing posts with label social security. Show all posts
Showing posts with label social security. Show all posts
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
considering the inevitable
Patsy reminded me in a comment on the last post that if either Cliff or I move on to the golden streets, household income will decrease considerably.
Indeed it will, and when that happens, whoever remains will be making some fast changes.
My Social Security makes the house payment, pays the water softener bill, and puts some money in savings for emergencies. There's no way this household will remain solvent without it.
As I have said many times, I would have a sale of farm equipment and tools, and sell the place; I think even in this depressed market the place would bring what is owed against it; but if not, I could just abandon it to the bank like a couple of neighbors have done with their places recently. I would then move to an apartment in a town or city with sidewalks and a city bus service.
I don't really know what Cliff's plan of action is, or whether he has one. I do know his boss told him, when he retired, "If you ever need a job, come on back."
That job is one that he could still do at the age of ninety, as long as his mind was good.
It's a bridge that one of us will cross when the time comes.
For now, everything is working.
Indeed it will, and when that happens, whoever remains will be making some fast changes.
My Social Security makes the house payment, pays the water softener bill, and puts some money in savings for emergencies. There's no way this household will remain solvent without it.
As I have said many times, I would have a sale of farm equipment and tools, and sell the place; I think even in this depressed market the place would bring what is owed against it; but if not, I could just abandon it to the bank like a couple of neighbors have done with their places recently. I would then move to an apartment in a town or city with sidewalks and a city bus service.
I don't really know what Cliff's plan of action is, or whether he has one. I do know his boss told him, when he retired, "If you ever need a job, come on back."
That job is one that he could still do at the age of ninety, as long as his mind was good.
It's a bridge that one of us will cross when the time comes.
For now, everything is working.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
One month on Social Security
We stayed on budget for our first month on Cliff's Social Security, but I have tweaked it a little for the coming month.
$280 for groceries for a month is plenty for us (we have beef in the freezer, remember, and milk from Bonnie... and we don't do convenience foods). However, I'm used to having our budgeted funds divided into weekly periods, $70 per week. So the first week I spent $70 just because that's what I always have to spend. Second week, I didn't spend $70, so I used a portion of that money to eat out. It was as though I simply had to spend that amount each week. By last week, there wasn't much left in the envelope and I had to cut my grocery list to stay under budget.
So now my goal is to see how much less than $70 I can spend each week, and hopefully we can have a little guilt-free fun with what's left on the last week of our pay period.
I plan to get to know Aldi better.
I like getting our regular prescriptions at Walmart, but because our Medicare Plus wants us to buy our prescriptions online, they only let us purchase one month's pills at a time locally. If we lived in town near Walmart or Target or any big drug chain, it wouldn't be a big deal. Since we're fifteen miles from such places, it's pretty aggravating. Next month when Cliff has his regular doctor visit, we'll have the doctor write new prescriptions, and we'll start getting them by mail, three months supply at once. It's cheaper that way, anyhow. I just always preferred to pick them up in person. At some point before the end of the year, Lipitor goes generic, which will save us some bucks.
I've allotted a litte more money for the "fun" envelope, and also for the "misc." envelope. Let's face it, I had to use my stash of quarter rolls to go to the state fair. I have no quarters left, and I do want to be able to do something fun once in awhile. When Cliff was working, all these extras came out of his pocket. Now his allowance isn't big enough to support the frivolous things in life. What little he gets is his, and when I stay out of it, it seems to be plenty.
My worst shock was the cost of fuel, which , it turns out, comes to over $400 a month. It isn't that we travel a lot; it's the diesel and gasoline for the tractors that makes the bill so huge. That should start to get better as mowing season ends, but meanwhile I was $100 low on my estimate of how much we'd be paying for fuel for all the vehicles.
The budgeted amount for doctors and prescriptions, pets and critters, and clothing seems to be on target. I won't have to mess with those envelopes at all (knock wood).
I realize inflation is going to make this game harder down the road, but for now, I seem to have the pesky budget under control.
$280 for groceries for a month is plenty for us (we have beef in the freezer, remember, and milk from Bonnie... and we don't do convenience foods). However, I'm used to having our budgeted funds divided into weekly periods, $70 per week. So the first week I spent $70 just because that's what I always have to spend. Second week, I didn't spend $70, so I used a portion of that money to eat out. It was as though I simply had to spend that amount each week. By last week, there wasn't much left in the envelope and I had to cut my grocery list to stay under budget.
So now my goal is to see how much less than $70 I can spend each week, and hopefully we can have a little guilt-free fun with what's left on the last week of our pay period.
I plan to get to know Aldi better.
I like getting our regular prescriptions at Walmart, but because our Medicare Plus wants us to buy our prescriptions online, they only let us purchase one month's pills at a time locally. If we lived in town near Walmart or Target or any big drug chain, it wouldn't be a big deal. Since we're fifteen miles from such places, it's pretty aggravating. Next month when Cliff has his regular doctor visit, we'll have the doctor write new prescriptions, and we'll start getting them by mail, three months supply at once. It's cheaper that way, anyhow. I just always preferred to pick them up in person. At some point before the end of the year, Lipitor goes generic, which will save us some bucks.
I've allotted a litte more money for the "fun" envelope, and also for the "misc." envelope. Let's face it, I had to use my stash of quarter rolls to go to the state fair. I have no quarters left, and I do want to be able to do something fun once in awhile. When Cliff was working, all these extras came out of his pocket. Now his allowance isn't big enough to support the frivolous things in life. What little he gets is his, and when I stay out of it, it seems to be plenty.
My worst shock was the cost of fuel, which , it turns out, comes to over $400 a month. It isn't that we travel a lot; it's the diesel and gasoline for the tractors that makes the bill so huge. That should start to get better as mowing season ends, but meanwhile I was $100 low on my estimate of how much we'd be paying for fuel for all the vehicles.
The budgeted amount for doctors and prescriptions, pets and critters, and clothing seems to be on target. I won't have to mess with those envelopes at all (knock wood).
I realize inflation is going to make this game harder down the road, but for now, I seem to have the pesky budget under control.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Tempest in a teapot
Or, mountains out of molehills. Remember how worried I was about a missing year of Cliff's wages? The guy with SSI told us we needed to find the records for that year because it could make a difference in how much Social Security Cliff draws each month.
Well, I dug through old income tax folders, but didn't find any older than as 1992; the missing year was 1986. I talked to the IRS folks, but their records only go back eight years.
So yesterday, Cliff called the Social Security number. Now that in itself was interesting, because I usually do the calling about things like that; but we knew they would insist on speaking directly to Cliff, so he figured he'd just make the call himself. He didn't know about the automated person with whom you have to carry on a conversation for about ten minutes before you can speak with a real person. He didn't even realize it was a robot, so he'd start to explain something and the robot would rudely interrupt him. This happened three or four times before it finally hit him what was happening. I couldn't tell him, because he only has one good ear, and that was covered up by the telephone.
He ended up talking to two different "real people", spending at least an hour on the phone. But what finally happened is that a lady told him to estimate his income for the missing year. That wasn't too difficult, because it was the middle year of three that he worked for R.B. Rice.
Here's what we learned: The worst that can happen is that Cliff draws what he was already expecting. If SSI accepts the estimate for 1986, he might get more.
Good grief, with all the years he's worked, and considering this missing year was back in 1986, how much difference could it make? Maybe a couple of bucks, if we're lucky.
So all that stewing and worrying was really for nothing. It reminds me of an old saying I picked up years ago: "Ninety-five percent of the things we worry about never happen."
Or, as Mark Twain put it, "I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened."
Well, I dug through old income tax folders, but didn't find any older than as 1992; the missing year was 1986. I talked to the IRS folks, but their records only go back eight years.
So yesterday, Cliff called the Social Security number. Now that in itself was interesting, because I usually do the calling about things like that; but we knew they would insist on speaking directly to Cliff, so he figured he'd just make the call himself. He didn't know about the automated person with whom you have to carry on a conversation for about ten minutes before you can speak with a real person. He didn't even realize it was a robot, so he'd start to explain something and the robot would rudely interrupt him. This happened three or four times before it finally hit him what was happening. I couldn't tell him, because he only has one good ear, and that was covered up by the telephone.
He ended up talking to two different "real people", spending at least an hour on the phone. But what finally happened is that a lady told him to estimate his income for the missing year. That wasn't too difficult, because it was the middle year of three that he worked for R.B. Rice.
Here's what we learned: The worst that can happen is that Cliff draws what he was already expecting. If SSI accepts the estimate for 1986, he might get more.
Good grief, with all the years he's worked, and considering this missing year was back in 1986, how much difference could it make? Maybe a couple of bucks, if we're lucky.
So all that stewing and worrying was really for nothing. It reminds me of an old saying I picked up years ago: "Ninety-five percent of the things we worry about never happen."
Or, as Mark Twain put it, "I am an old man and have known a great many troubles, but most of them never happened."
Friday, March 18, 2011
Social Security problems
The time has come for Cliff to file for Social Security; we did that this past week. Yesterday, we got a letter from Social Security.
There's a problem. It's our government, right?
Of course there's a problem.
Cliff worked for R.B. Rice in 1985, 1986, and 1987. When he started working there, Sara Lee was the company that owned R.B. Rice. The next year another outfit bought R.B. Rice; I think it was General Foods, but who knows. In 1987, Sara Lee bought R.B. Rice once again. And then, the local R.B. Rice company shut down and moved to Tennessee, and Cliff was out of work.
For some reason, Social Security has no record of Cliff working in 1986. Now, we know he was working at R.B. Rice, but so far I haven't found our income tax records from that far back. I'm not sure I have them. The man we spoke with today said it could make a difference in how much money Cliff draws from Social Security when he retires. We're at a loss here.
Is there a chance we could contact R.B. Rice? Trouble is, Cliff's employer shows up as Sara Lee, not R.B. Rice. During the missing year, Sara Lee wasn't the owner.
If I remember correctly, back in those days we went to H & R Block to get our taxes done. I wonder if they have records from that long ago.
Cliff has worked steadily since 1962, and somehow that one missing year could change the amount of money he draws in retirement. Good grief.
On the other hand, there's good news: It seems I'm going to be able to collect spousal benefits now, which supposedly is going to let me draw "significantly" more social security. I wish I had some idea how "significant" the difference will be. I'll find out in a couple of weeks when they call me.
I hate having issues like this.
*update: I called the number for H & R Block; they only have records going back four years. The lady I spoke with suggested I contact the IRS.
*sigh*
*update #2: My Jewish friend, Meesha, left a link in my comments that looks very promising. There's a form to fill out, and it's going to cost me $57. If they can't help me I get my money back; if they do help me, it's well worth the money. I wish I could tell you folks how many times Meesha has given me good advice, not to mention good recipes. The only times I have ignored his advice is when he gives his opinion of Apple products; now I'm starting to wonder if David led me astray on this subject.
There's a problem. It's our government, right?
Of course there's a problem.
Cliff worked for R.B. Rice in 1985, 1986, and 1987. When he started working there, Sara Lee was the company that owned R.B. Rice. The next year another outfit bought R.B. Rice; I think it was General Foods, but who knows. In 1987, Sara Lee bought R.B. Rice once again. And then, the local R.B. Rice company shut down and moved to Tennessee, and Cliff was out of work.
For some reason, Social Security has no record of Cliff working in 1986. Now, we know he was working at R.B. Rice, but so far I haven't found our income tax records from that far back. I'm not sure I have them. The man we spoke with today said it could make a difference in how much money Cliff draws from Social Security when he retires. We're at a loss here.
Is there a chance we could contact R.B. Rice? Trouble is, Cliff's employer shows up as Sara Lee, not R.B. Rice. During the missing year, Sara Lee wasn't the owner.
If I remember correctly, back in those days we went to H & R Block to get our taxes done. I wonder if they have records from that long ago.
Cliff has worked steadily since 1962, and somehow that one missing year could change the amount of money he draws in retirement. Good grief.
On the other hand, there's good news: It seems I'm going to be able to collect spousal benefits now, which supposedly is going to let me draw "significantly" more social security. I wish I had some idea how "significant" the difference will be. I'll find out in a couple of weeks when they call me.
I hate having issues like this.
*update: I called the number for H & R Block; they only have records going back four years. The lady I spoke with suggested I contact the IRS.
*sigh*
*update #2: My Jewish friend, Meesha, left a link in my comments that looks very promising. There's a form to fill out, and it's going to cost me $57. If they can't help me I get my money back; if they do help me, it's well worth the money. I wish I could tell you folks how many times Meesha has given me good advice, not to mention good recipes. The only times I have ignored his advice is when he gives his opinion of Apple products; now I'm starting to wonder if David led me astray on this subject.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
More about talking to Social Security
Now, I know part of the problem is with me. To their credit, after Monday, I was able to contact the Social Security people without a long wait time... that is, AFTER I spent at least ten minutes talking to the robot. I actually contacted them three times yesterday and once today. Why so many times?
The first guy I spoke with about starting Cliff's Medicare said he would have to talk to Cliff, personally. Since Cliff was still asleep, I thanked him and hung up.
Once Cliff was up, I called again.
Now here's the thing: at first you reach a lady robot telling you something about some Obama program that started in March. I should have it memorized by now, but I've tuned it out.
The next lady robot tells me to say what I want, and I usually start with "Medicare signup". Then she has to say something like this: "It sounded like you said Medicare; is that correct?"
Of course, I say "Yes."
Then she spends about five minutes telling me stuff about Medicare that I already know, and suggests I visit their website. Now, during all this, I can press "O" as much as I want, and nothing happens. But there comes a time when I hit "O" and she says, "Did I understand you want to speak with a representative?"
"Yes," I sigh.
She proceeds to tell me all the various ways I can find out about Medicare without speaking to someone and then says, "Do you still want to speak to someone?"
"Yes."
So now I am told the wait time is less than one minute. Do I get to talk to someone that quickly?
Oh no, the robot is back with some questions: Cliff's social security number, the state he was born in, his first name (spell after you say it), his last name (spell that too), and his mother's maiden name (spell that too). Whew. Of course, she has to repeat each of my answers back to me, very slowly.
I go through this Every. Single. Time.
So Cliff got up and had a cup of coffee, and I went through the whole routine again. This man did not need to speak to Cliff (HUH?). He gave me three options: 1. He could make us an appointment with the local office, 2. Cliff could talk to someone and enroll on the telephone, or 3. We could do it online.
I first said let's do it now on the phone, and he told me he'd have to direct me to someone else and the process would take about 45 minutes. And he began pitching the online route. He explained where to go on the web, and what to click on. "It's really very easy," he said.
Finally, I agreed to try that.
I will tell you truthfully that it indeed was easy. When I was done, I printed off what I'd sent them and gave it to Cliff to read.
"This isn't right," he said when he got to the second page. "I'm not covered by a group health plan through my own employment."
I had misunderstood the question and given the wrong answer. Now what?
This morning around 5 AM I decided to call my robot lady friend so I could talk to a real person and tell him or her about my mistake. I went through the whole ten or fifteen minute routine with robot with whom I have now formed an intimate relationship, and finally my real person answers. I told him about my problem.
"We'll have to speak to Clifford directly," he said. "Once we get his okay, we can send the correction to the local office."
Of course, Cliff was asleep in bed.
Dear Lord, I have to go through all that again? Somebody just shoot me.
The first guy I spoke with about starting Cliff's Medicare said he would have to talk to Cliff, personally. Since Cliff was still asleep, I thanked him and hung up.
Once Cliff was up, I called again.
Now here's the thing: at first you reach a lady robot telling you something about some Obama program that started in March. I should have it memorized by now, but I've tuned it out.
The next lady robot tells me to say what I want, and I usually start with "Medicare signup". Then she has to say something like this: "It sounded like you said Medicare; is that correct?"
Of course, I say "Yes."
Then she spends about five minutes telling me stuff about Medicare that I already know, and suggests I visit their website. Now, during all this, I can press "O" as much as I want, and nothing happens. But there comes a time when I hit "O" and she says, "Did I understand you want to speak with a representative?"
"Yes," I sigh.
She proceeds to tell me all the various ways I can find out about Medicare without speaking to someone and then says, "Do you still want to speak to someone?"
"Yes."
So now I am told the wait time is less than one minute. Do I get to talk to someone that quickly?
Oh no, the robot is back with some questions: Cliff's social security number, the state he was born in, his first name (spell after you say it), his last name (spell that too), and his mother's maiden name (spell that too). Whew. Of course, she has to repeat each of my answers back to me, very slowly.
I go through this Every. Single. Time.
So Cliff got up and had a cup of coffee, and I went through the whole routine again. This man did not need to speak to Cliff (HUH?). He gave me three options: 1. He could make us an appointment with the local office, 2. Cliff could talk to someone and enroll on the telephone, or 3. We could do it online.
I first said let's do it now on the phone, and he told me he'd have to direct me to someone else and the process would take about 45 minutes. And he began pitching the online route. He explained where to go on the web, and what to click on. "It's really very easy," he said.
Finally, I agreed to try that.
I will tell you truthfully that it indeed was easy. When I was done, I printed off what I'd sent them and gave it to Cliff to read.
"This isn't right," he said when he got to the second page. "I'm not covered by a group health plan through my own employment."
I had misunderstood the question and given the wrong answer. Now what?
This morning around 5 AM I decided to call my robot lady friend so I could talk to a real person and tell him or her about my mistake. I went through the whole ten or fifteen minute routine with robot with whom I have now formed an intimate relationship, and finally my real person answers. I told him about my problem.
"We'll have to speak to Clifford directly," he said. "Once we get his okay, we can send the correction to the local office."
Of course, Cliff was asleep in bed.
Dear Lord, I have to go through all that again? Somebody just shoot me.
Friday, January 23, 2009
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.
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)