What he doesn't mention is that 2 weeks after you go to your doctor with a "worn out" ankle, you start hearing from your insurance company, via this third-party outfit that wants to determine if your "worn out" ankle is the result of an accident or injury, and if so, where was it, so they can go sue someone so your insurance company doesn't have to...well...insure you.
I was going to just say, "don't worry; it gets worse" as I'm now on my 20th anniversary of "OMG! I'm turning 40 soon!"
but...
what Dirk said. I was doing some woodworking a few years ago, on New Years' Eve (swingin' party, I know, but that's how I roll). I managed to slip and tear a nice gash across my finger with a wood chisel. Hit the bone, of course, 'cause there's just not much else to slow down a chisel in a finger. New Year's Eve. My doc's out for two days. What's left but either an ER or an urgent care place?
A couple of weeks after the ER visit, I get a form in the mail trying to determine if anyone else is responsible for slicing up my finger so they can get someone else to pay for it.
Okay, that's just too true to be funny ... so why am I laughing so hard? (For the record, I'll be 58 in a couple of weeks, so it hits pretty close to home.)
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What he doesn't mention is that 2 weeks after you go to your doctor with a "worn out" ankle, you start hearing from your insurance company, via this third-party outfit that wants to determine if your "worn out" ankle is the result of an accident or injury, and if so, where was it, so they can go sue someone so your insurance company doesn't have to...well...insure you.
I was going to just say, "don't worry; it gets worse" as I'm now on my 20th anniversary of "OMG! I'm turning 40 soon!"
but...
what Dirk said. I was doing some woodworking a few years ago, on New Years' Eve (swingin' party, I know, but that's how I roll). I managed to slip and tear a nice gash across my finger with a wood chisel. Hit the bone, of course, 'cause there's just not much else to slow down a chisel in a finger. New Year's Eve. My doc's out for two days. What's left but either an ER or an urgent care place?
A couple of weeks after the ER visit, I get a form in the mail trying to determine if anyone else is responsible for slicing up my finger so they can get someone else to pay for it.
Okay, that's just too true to be funny ... so why am I laughing so hard? (For the record, I'll be 58 in a couple of weeks, so it hits pretty close to home.)
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