Dental Insurance Numbers

At one point early last month I mentioned in passing that we’d dropped our dental insurance.

So, was it good idea? Well, let’s look at the numbers for 2010…

Had I enrolled in the dental plan offered by my primary employer, I’d have had $38.41 withdrawn from my paycheck.

I’m on a bi-weekly pay schedule so if you multiply that by 26, the total in dental expenses for the year would be $998.66.

(I think we pay more than that per month for health insurance — but that’s another story…)

The $998 value is a bit deceptive, though…

Dental insurance doesn’t cover everything — not sure if that’s the norm or if the insurance we’re offered just sucks but in years past (when I was carrying dental insurance), I’d still have to pay for things like fillings, root canals, and crowns out of pocket.

Perhaps I wasn’t paying the full percentage but, still, the grand total dental expenses definitely exceeded the insurance premiums coming directly out of my paycheck.

For the sake of simplicity, though, let’s just pretend the $998.66 premium covered everything.

Now, I didn’t carry dental insurance at all in 2010. I still went to the dentist twice per year — I’m pretty sure I even had a cavity filled. My wife still went on a regular schedule as well.

We never turned down a service — it was just like it’s always been except the bill came directly to us.

Total damagage for the year? $490.00

So using the unrealistically conservative $998.66 value, we saved over $500 by droping dental insurance.

Definitely a wise move.

Now, once Duncan and Duncan II are old enough to be going to the dentist, well, we might need to re-evaluate the numbers.

Coverage for the entire family (using 2011′s numbers) would set me back $1530.10 per year and still not cover many of the, what I’d consider, basic procedures.

I dunno — still seems like a raw deal.

With the “savings” we’ll have by skipping coverage each year, we should easily be afford to pay for braces should they need them…

Posted on March 5th, 2011 at 12:06 pm by Brainy Smurf
Cutting Costs, Health, Insurance | 2 Comments »

Three Misguided Senior Perspectives from a 30-Something

As we stumble into another election season here in the US, the fact that the senior citizens are generally the largest voting block (and dictate who actually wins) is really starting to scare the crap out of me.

Whether it’s my parents, my friend’s parents, or even the interactions I’ve had with the dinosaurs that attend our imaginary government meetings (the meetings aren’t imaginary, the government is — it’s complicated), I can’t help but notice how differently they see things and how, well, out of touch they are with how things work these days — simply because they don’t need to stay in touch with how things work.

The first thing I think they’ve lost touch with is this whole healthcare issue that has been in the news for the past few months. Yeah, yeah, I know they’re all over the whole medicare side of things (for their own reasons) but they can’t understand why the “younger” set is by-and-large upset with the wacky costs associated with health insurance.

In my own situation, I’d consider myself pretty well off. My wife and I both have full time jobs and both offer health insurance. It sounds like a pretty cushy situation but we’re still paying around $15000 per year for insurance — and this isn’t for some special elite plan. I don’t think the average senior realizes that it’s that high of a number — it wasn’t during their working days.

Yep — using an average household income of $50,233 (2007 numbers), healthcare is costing us nearly 30% of our PRE-TAX income. You can’t deny the percentages — the average American household wasn’t blowing 30% of their pre-tax income in the 1970′s and 1980′s unless, of course, they were a really unhealthy family.

The crazy part in my own personal situation is that I haven’t been to a doctor in over a decade. Do the math… Yep, I should have an extra 6-figures in my pocket. It’s highway robbery. It really is.

Now I’m not saying that a government plan is the best option (even though I am Canadian and do, in theory, support such an idea) or even a solution, I just think that there’s a HUGE segment of the voting population that are completely unaware of what the younger folks are paying, not for services, but for just-in-case insurance. It’s not right.

The next thing is the whole concept of a 401k plan. I’ve heard two or three people over the past couple of months someone say along the lines of, “Yeah, well you don’t need pensions because people your age have 401ks…”

I don’t know about you but there are an awful lot of companies out there that don’t even offer 401k plans — I’m pretty sure that most of my friends have nothing of the sort. And even if they do, good luck finding a company that *still* offers a match — sometimes I even have to laugh that employers call it a “benefit”.

Using my own 401k as a real life example : I’ve been contributing to it pretty heavily for a dozen years to receive the largest possible employer match (from when they were *still* offering a match). You know, basically making the most of it that I possibly could.

My total balance right now is right around $79000. Fourteen thousand of that is from my employer — or a little over $1000 per year over my 12 years of contributing.

You can throw phrases like “compound interest” or “tax deferred” in there all you like, there is NO WAY that anyone can claim that $1000 per year over a 25-30 year career (if you’re lucky) is going to be enough to “retire” on.

The fact is — employers aren’t going to take care of their “former” workforce like they used to and calling a 401k plan a “retirement” plan similar to a pension is, well, like comparing apples to asparagus. One tastes like crap.

That’s right Mom, I still don’t like asparagus. I think, at this point, it’s safe to say that I never will.

So, from my employer’s contributions to my 401k, I might end up with a $200 check each month for a few years once I retire… And don’t forget — I’m at that unfortunate age where I won’t be getting any social security checks on top of it all either… Ouch.

And on the subject of fixed incomes and social security checks, what is up with the seniors getting all upset about not getting a “raise” in 2010…

Are they as out of touch as Wall Street?

Maybe my job sucks but I’m pretty sure that I’m not alone — I haven’t gotten a raise since 2003. It might even be as far back as 2001 but plain and simple, right now, I’m certainly not expecting a token raise anytime soon, you know, just because…

Really, everyone’s cost-of-living has gone up (I personally haven’t noticed) but those still lucky enough to be part of the workforce aren’t seeing the “adjustments” that the seniors have come to expect. It’s messed up — the seniors need to get in touch with reality on this one.

Again, like the 401k/pension thing, that isn’t how things work anymore — people don’t get token raises just because…

But in the end, it’s really funny to me as I can’t deny that I’ve jumped the bandwagon before and said stuff like, “Yeah, the bratty Gen Y’s out there just expect everything to be handed to them…” but now I’m seeing first hand that AARP members are just as expectant of handouts.

Weird how perspectives change… or fail to change… Seems that every generation can fall into that often mocked me-me-me category indicating that one thing is for certain — we’re not all in this together.

Posted on October 19th, 2009 at 8:18 pm by Brainy Smurf
401k, Current Events, Finance, Health, Life, Rants | 4 Comments »

Success on the Scale

Way back in September, I mentioned that the Biggest Loser was a guilty pleasure of mine.

I’d originally become hooked to the show due to a pseudo celebrity crush that I had on one of the contestants — but that was three seasons ago and I’m still watching it each and every Tuesday night.

Now I’ve never been very heavy — never even hit the 200 lb mark — so I can’t really claim to be able to relate to the contestant’s demons but, thinking about it now, it’s almost funny how I became a fan of the show just as my own waistline was swelling right before my eyes.

Five “new” inches on my waist and an extra 50 or so pounds.

In the span of a year…

Yeah, I was well on my way to becoming a potential contestant…

The good news, though, is that so far in 2009, I’ve dropped nearly half of that extra weight.

No, it wasn’t a new year’s resolution.

And, no, it’s not because I’m exercising or eating right.

Please… that’s not my style.

I’ve lost the weight just by going to work everyday.

Yep, I lose weight and get paid pretty handsomely to do it. It’s as simple as that.

Could it get any better?

Actually, yes.

The weight loss is entirely due to stress…with a pinch of unhappiness too.

I haven’t been able to pinpoint exactly what it is at work that’s suddenly (and for the past five months) taking its toll on me — no, it’s NOT the economy — but if the side effect is getting my “stick” figure back, well, I guess I shouldn’t complain…

Posted on April 16th, 2009 at 7:57 pm by Brainy Smurf
Health, Life | No Comments »

Lobotomy ≠ Phlebotomy

Yesterday morning my wife and I went on date.

We got all spiffed up — okay, I was still wearing shorts and a hat — and headed for our closest phlebotomist’s office. It was 7:30 am. Romantic so far, huh?

So we got there, signed in, and waited in the waiting room. It was nothing like the autoshop waiting room last week.

They had some James Taylor tune jamming. I was rocking out — he’s seen fire and he’s seen rain. It also looked like they had a nice magazine selection too but our names were called just as we were getting comfy.

We’re herded into this little office that has what looks like a torture device in the corner. My palms were sweaty. I mean, if you say phlebotomist really fast, doesn’t it sound like someone who performs lobotomies? Well, it does to me, and that scary chair in the corner looks like the perfect place for that sort of thing to happen.

I guess this is the part where I should let people know what a phlebotomist really is…

Phlebotomist – an individual trained to draw blood, either for laboratory tests or for blood donations.

My wife went first. She gives blood all the time and her husband wears the free t-shirts to prove it.

She hopped up on that chair and filled like 15 of those little vials all with different colored caps. Apparently the color of the cap means something to someone. Not me.

As I was waiting and trying not to look, I was sorta flexing to get some veins to pop out. Shuffling my feet a bit. Taking deep breaths. And remembering the last time I had blood drawn…

It would have been around 14 years ago, maybe even 15. I know I was still in high school at the time.

I had just had a physical with a regular physician where they ask all of those awkward questions that, quite frankly, are none of their business.

One of the final questions, and one that I was a little taken aback by because it was from left field was, “Have you ever fainted or blacked out?”Nope.

When my 45 seconds of “real doctor time” were up (it was an HMO facility), they sent me down to have blood drawn.

Remember when the actual doctor did that? Now you have to go to another office, sign in, sit and wait. Sure it saves the doctor or his nurse time, but it sure wastes a lot more of my own time. Pretty obnoxious of them to think they’re time is more important than mine… Anyway…

 I finally get in there feeling pretty good since the worst of it (the physical) is over. I sit in the chair, the woman pricks me with the needle and I fill two of those little vials. I’m done. Woo-hoo!

I get up, go out to the waiting room where my mom is waiting and we head out the front door. I’m blacking out… Done.

Now I’m sure the doctor is going to think I lied on all of my answers and the “fainting” one is the only one I was truly being honest on because it was such an odd question that caught me off guard.

After that day, I passed out a few more times. The first time was while watching a UConn basketball game with my dad on television. I got up for a second, made my way into the kitchen and THUD!

Next thing I knew, the dog was barking and my mom was freaking out wondering what was wrong with me. I havta say, the neat part about passing out is that you can take a Nestea plunge head first right into the floor and not feel a thing. Absolutely nothing.

We blew it off as I remember because, like I said, when I awoke, probably 5 seconds after it happened, I felt fine and went back to watching the basketball game.

A few weeks later it happened again. Back to the doctor.

This time, I’d estimate that I got around 90 seconds worth of quality time with an honest-to-goodness real live doctor. They took all kinds of tests — I even got to wear all of those little suction cups on my chest and forehead like E.T. did when the feds captured him. I thought that was pretty cool.

I had low blood pressure, so they did most of the tests on my heart and my lungs. Didn’t make a whole lot of sense as if I were having heart issues, I probably wouldn’t have been able to run 10 miles the day before in track practice, but I had without any trouble.

In the end, there wasn’t a real solid conclusion. They prescribed me some “chill” pills to take when I was feeling stressed out (college basketball games on television were never stressful) that I pretty much never took. I wasn’t stressed.

They also told me not to get up quickly after having been seating for a length of time — a stupid request for a high school student who sits for 45 minutes and then runs to another room to sit for another 45 minutes. Repeat 3 more times.

And the last thing they told me was to avoid giving blood.

That last request was the one that I had obeyed all these years.

Until yesterday morning.

It was my turn. I was only having one test done on my blood — a karaoke test. No, that’s not it… I just looked it up — a karyotype test. I guess it’s something to see if I’m 100 percent Smurf or if I’ve got a few Snork genes mixed in as well.

The phlebotomist lined up 4 green capped vials on the tray. FOUR?! I mean, at least it wasn’t 15, but still, I was only having one test done?! I was nervous.

My wife and I agreed not to say anything in advance to the doctor — I mean, I watch House, everyone lies to their doctor, right?

And really, was this even a *real* doctor? She seemed too nice to be an actual doctor.

I was going to tough it out. And besides, I’ve eaten a lot of fast food in the past 15 years — my blood pressure should probably be considered high at this point.

She stuck me with the needle as I looked away. I asked if she was done yet? Not yet.

My wife, in the meantime, was looking at her computer screen. My karaoke test was going to cost at least $388. Ouch. I can only imagine what all of her tests are going to cost — my bad for not looking while she was in the hot seat.

I hope insurance covers most of it. Please? Is that too much to ask?

When it was over, I never even did look at my vials. I got the feeling that the phlebotomist knew I was a little touch-and-go afterwards asking if I was alright. “Yeah, I can dig it.” Okay, I didn’t actually say that, I’m not that cool, but let’s pretend I did.

We headed out to the parking lot and my wife asked if I was okay.

“I just want to sit down,” was my response. I was a little loopy.

Perhaps it was all in my head, but if I were ever made to fill one of those bags at a blood drive, there is no way I’d be able to get off of the table. No way. I was, for lack of a better term, drained.

Yes, four little vials sucked the life out of me. But a strawberry fruit-lata thing from Dunkin Donuts shortly thereafter put it all right back.

When I get the results (and the bill), I’ll keep you posted.

Anyone else do anything that exciting all before 8:00 am on Saturday?

Posted on June 22nd, 2008 at 7:42 am by Brainy Smurf
Health, Retro | 2 Comments »