Free Didn't My Skin Used to Fit? by Martha Bolton Page B

battery doesn’t charge like it used to, our fan belt gets a little frayed, and we might even discover a crack in our engine block. And if that’s not bad enough, we can develop an embarrassing leak in our transmission. We need help, maybe even a complete overhaul.
    Fortunately, I’ve only had a few things go wrong with my engine over the years. I’ve had a couple of benign breast cysts removed, some laser surgeries performed on my eyes, and my pancreas needs a little help to work properly. Other than that, I haven’t had to spend too much time in the pit, and for that I’m thankful.
    But since ours is the age when things can start to go wrong, good health insurance is important. If you don’t have private insurance, chances are you have an HMO. I’ve had both. One thing I’ve learned about HMOs is that they aren’t all the same. Some are terrific and are equipped to meet whatever medical need might arise. Others fall short of the mark.
    To aid you in your search for a good HMO, the following list is provided:
    YOU KNOW YOU’VE JOINED A CHEAP HMO WHEN . . .
    • Resetting a bone involves duct tape.
    • For a second opinion, they refer you to last week’s episode of ER .
    • Their EKG machine bears a striking resemblance to an Etch A Sketch.
    • Their IV solution looks an awful lot like Kool-Aid.
    • They get their X rays developed at Walgreen’s.
    • They recycle their tongue depressors.
    • You get a discount if you make up your own hospital bed.
    • Their ambulance rents itself out as an airport shuttle on the off-hours.
    • Their thermometer reads to 400 degrees and tastes an awful lot like turkey.
    • Their mammogram machine doubles as the waffle iron in the hospital cafeteria.

    All the flowers of all the tomorrows are in the seeds of today.
—Source unknown

35

It’s All in the Attitude
    Getting older is beyond our control. No matter how much we’d like to, we can’t stop time from marching on. However, growing old is something we can control. That’s where attitude enters in.
    When we look in the mirror, we can either see a life that’s half over or a life that’s half begun. We can spend all our time dwelling on the mistakes of our past or we can spend it focused on the hope of the future. We can count our wrinkles or count our blessings. The choice is ours.
    It’s been said that we live the first half of our life for success and the second half for significance. I agree. In our twenties and thirties, most of us were consumed with our careers, attaining financial stability, and perhaps raising a family.
    By the time we reach the second half of our life, our priorities change—or at least they should. Many of us have had to watch our parents’ health decline or fail. At this juncture, we are forced to face the cruel reality that our time on this earth is limited. When we fully realize this, the reports and meetings that seemed so important and pressing suddenly lose their urgency. We spend less time thinking about the mortgage on our home and more about the people in it.
    When I was driving my mother to her chemotherapy treatments, she would often remark about the flowers along the side of the road. She noticed them as if for the first time. Of course, she’d driven that road many times before, and the flowers were there each spring, but she wasn’t looking at them then. She was usually on her way to work and had a host of other things on her mind. Now, battling cancer, she appreciated their beauty to the fullest.
    The second half of life is a chance to get our priorities straight. It’s a time to realize that having the last word isn’t as important as having a conversation. It’s time to quit trying so hard to get ahead of the Joneses and to try a little harder to walk beside them and be their friends. It’s time to realize that it’s not going to matter how much money you leave your family when you die. What is important is how much of yourself you leave with them.

    By the