Saturday, July 23, 2016

TommyBoy's Life Matters!

Who is your emergency contact person? Do you even have one? An emergency contact person is someone the hospital can call when you don't wake up from surgery. Insurance companies want to know your emergency contact too so they'll know where to send the money after failing to wake up, or maybe it was after stepping off the curb in front of Whataburger. Blam!

So, that's what they ask when you're filling out the forms. They want to know someone they can contact in case something goes wrong. "Mrs. Smith, we've got your son down here at Wisdom County Memorial and he's taking up room in the basement and we'd like to move him out of there. Could you come get him?"

Emergency contact people don't even have to be related to you. They can be anybody. They don't have to have a car, or a job, or any common sense; they don't have to know if you're in the hospital or not, they don't have to know much of anything about you, actually, as long as their name is on the form as your personal emergency contact.

Most of you out there in Lala-Land have spouses listed as their emergency contact. Some people have a grandparent or an aunt or uncle. Some have cousins or a best friend. Me? I'm my own best friend. Presently, my emergency contact is a deacon at the church where I used to attend. But I moved away, so unless I drive back, my emergency contact is not really doing me much good. A couple of months ago, I nearly cut off my dang finger. Remember? I posted a pic here at the Drifter. They asked me in the emergency room who my emergency contact was and I had to admit I didn't really have one. It was sort of embarrassing.

A few years ago, I called my brother when I was about to have emergency heart surgery -- five transplanted bypasses, but he was too busy with wife and kids. Now, if I was a successful entrepreneur/author with the big cheese and an international following of sci-fi fans, I'll bet I wouldn't have a problem choosing an emergency contact. (Wait a minute! I do have international fans!)

My lovely ex-stepdaughter once told me no one liked me, that even my own family hated me, not to mention the rest of the in-laws. Well, live and learn from the mouths of demons sent to torment me... I wasn't really surprised to hear it as I didn't much like the in-laws either and I especially didn't care for the ex-stepmonster. No worries, all that worked out and I no longer have to choose my emergency contact person from that bunch.

Don't let this happen to you.
Choose an emergency contact today
before it's too late.
But I'm just poor me, I guess. The truth is, my fragmented, disassociated fam is probably just as petty as yours. Every few years I run across someone at Walmart and if they don't ignore me altogether, they still might encourage me to go out and find a real job. "It's not too late," they say, "with your experience, you can do anything you want."

So, I'm sure you can see my conundrum. If you're up for being my non-judgmental emergency contact, please drop me a message in the comments section below or shoot me an email with your name, address, and phone number. If you're in Shanghai or Phuket or even closer like Detroit or Cleveland, then you're still too far away but I WILL consider you anyway.

I will not issue a power of attorney but I did consider that you may have to make an end of life decision for me. With that in mind, you better get it right.

1 comment:

  1. Ok, not everybody at once. Please, one at a time.