This business of changing medical insurance plans is rocking my world. The new HMO has the reputation of being aggressive, but I thought that just meant that it was in cahoots with the insurance company to keep me from wasting their money. And of course thereís some of that, because thatís the way these soulless entities work.
But no, the new HMO went out of its way to make me feel welcome. They insisted that I choose a personal physician, which I did (one Tammy has taken her kids to and liked). They have a wonderfully interactive website that practically begs you to diagnose yourself and prescribe your own treatment. Which, by the way, I find very helpful, not being one who goes out of my way to go out of my way to a doctorís office.
Yesterday I found a package on my doorstep from the new HMO. They sent me a guide to their services, with phone numbers and helpful hints. And they sent me a handbook, about an inch thick, with everything you could ever possibly want to know about health and fitness and wellness (apparently these are not all the same thing).
Very cleverly, the HMO has peppered its handbook with information about exercise and nutrition. It almost seems as if they think that if you eat right and work out a bit, youíre going to have fewer problems that need treatment. Well, that hit me like a ton of brick cheese (which, I believe, weighs more than a ton of cheddar).
I immediately took all this information to heart. Itís obvious the HMO has my best interests at heart, and I donít want to let them down. I havenít exactly started the 30 minute-per-day exercise regime yet, but I plan to get going really, really soon. Seriously. In the very near future. I even weighed myself for the first time in about three years, and if that doesnít shock me into heavy reps, nothing will.