By the fall of 2016, I had just about gotten my housing situation under control when I was in a car accident. 

My little Sunfire was rear-ended by a big, black pick-up truck.

While the insurance company was writing off my car as beyond repair, in the emergency room, I was being diagnosed with minor whiplash.  (Though in my opinion, “minor whiplash” is as much of an oxymoron as “jumbo shrimp”.  It doesn’t matter what “kind” of whiplash you have – whiplash is whiplash!)

After much prodding and probing, the emergency room doctor told me that since x-rays showed no serious damage to my neck, shoulders, or spine (hence “minor” whiplash), he was going to release me.  He also mentioned that in car accident/whiplash cases such as mine, he always recommends that the patient follow-up with physiotherapy.  Did I want him to forward my file?

I did not hesitate.

I said “yes”.

Because I knew I still had extended health care coverage.

When I retired, I had opted to continue with Ryerson’s Sunlife plan.

So the topic of this blog – extended health care coverage.

When you retire from Ryerson, you are no longer covered by Ryerson’s benefits package.  That great little Ryerson “perk” (managed through Sunlife Financial) that helps out with the cost of prescriptions, eye glasses, dentists, orthotics, massages, physiotherapy and so much more.

All of that coverage disappears the day you officially retire from Ryerson.

So along with everything else you are planning and researching in the five years prior to your retirement – put “shop for extended health care” near the top.

The subject of extended health care did not make it onto my early retirement radar until perhaps eight months prior to my official retirement date.  I think I was vaguely aware that I was about to lose all of my extended Ryerson coverage, but I was equally vague about what I was going to do about it. 

In the end, the decision was more or less made for me – my retirement budget was able to cover the cost of keeping the Ryerson plan.  Which means I carry on in retirement as if nothing has happened – all of my prescriptions are still more or less covered, I still make regular visits to my dentist, and I just got a new pair of prescription eyeglasses. 

And I knew that in the aftermath of my accident, a minimum number of physiotherapist appointments would be covered.

So while you are doing all of your other planning and scheming in the five years prior to your actual retirement date, start researching extended health care plans.  Do not wait until the last minute.

Unfortunately, purchasing any extended health care plan will cost you money, so you will need to scrutinize all of the available plans carefully.  Think long and hard about which extended benefits would just be an extravagance, which would be nice to have, and which are of life-quality importance to you and your family. 

And ask a lot of questions about all of the available plans.  Ask about minimums, maximums, deductibles, time-frames, how to process a claim, out-of-pocket expenses, increasing coverage, decreasing coverage.  Ask about the fine print.  The emergency room is not the place to discover you don’t have the extended coverage you thought you had.

Never in my wildest imagination did I think that I would ever be in a car accident (my first, and hopefully only one, in forty years of driving.)  Considering everything else I had to deal with in the aftermath of my accident, I was grateful that trying to figure out how to pay for physiotherapy appointments was not one of them.

P.S.   Two more tips about extended health care benefits:

Ryerson/Sun Life Financial plan – comes in two parts  (a) extended health care benefits and (b) dental.  When I retired (five years ago now) it was my understanding that you only have one opportunity to “purchase” both parts of this plan.  You must have made your final decision by your official retirement date.  If six months after you retire, you realize it would have been a good idea to keep the Ryerson plan, you cannot go back and purchase either portion of the Sun Life plan.  If you initially only purchase the extended health care benefits and pass on the dental plan, you cannot go back at a later date and opt back into the dental plan. Double check to see if this is indeed still the case.

And something else I learned after I retired - extended health care premiums can be claimed on your income tax.  This fact was not covered in any Ryerson seminar/workshop I attended.  

Neon Orange is the New Black

Ignore the overall quality of the photos (or in this case, lack of quality) and pay attention to the neon orange safety vest.

If you were out and about on Saturday last (walking to the grocery store, for instance) you know how foggy and rainy it was and how limited the visibility, whether you were driving or walking.

Or how dark it is now in the morning when you’re making your way to the bus stop or in the evening when you’re out walking the dog.  (Thank you very much daylight savings time.)

So …. go out and buy yourself (and someone you love) a neon orange safety vest.

I picked up my vest at Walmart of all places, for $ 10.97.  (That’s my vest in the photos.) But I am sure you can find something similar on-line.

This particular vest is a light-weight mesh.  It’s basically three pieces velcroed together, at the shoulders and under the arms.  It folds up small enough to fit into my backpack so it goes everywhere with me.

Now I will be the first to admit that a neon orange vest is not the most stylish piece of outerwear.  But we have all watched the news reports and heard the statistics about the number of pedestrians, especially seniors, being hit by automobiles.  In fact, I’m sure every one of us has a “near miss” story to tell. 

And more than likely, you were in the middle of a crosswalk at the time.

So you need to do everything you can to keep yourself safe.

First.  No distractions.  Put your iPhone away.

Second, get yourself a neon orange safety vest and wear it.

Wear it whenever you’re out walking at night or in inclement weather or whenever you think it might be a good idea to make sure you’re visible.  (What if you’re stopped at the side of the road with car trouble?  Or shovelling out the driveway and you’re worried about being seen by the snow plow?)

I’m not going to lie to you.  Wearing a neon orange safety vest out in public – you’re going to get some odd looks and maybe the odd comment.  But I’ll bet you retirement dollars to Tim’s donuts that at least one person is going think a safety vest is a good idea and ask where got yours.

A neon orange safety vest pulled over a bulky winter jacket is not exactly going to look chic and debonair.  But really, wouldn’t it be better to be safe than stylish!

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(Do not store your vest away when winter is over.  Be safe all year ‘round – keep your vest in your knapsack so it’s close at hand in case you need it.  (Mine is tucked into the front pocket of my knapsack!)  Maybe buy a second vest and store it in the trunk of the car.)

Got Junk?  Call 1-800-JUNK-MAN

Let’s see what I can do about relaunching this blog!  

It’s been awhile, I know, but having spent the last 18 months or so trying to navigate my way through a year from h***, I hope the very faint light I see at the end of the tunnel is not the headlight of yet another oncoming train.

But one never knows does one!

But what I do know, is that I recognise a learning/sharing opportunity when I see one!

For reasons that are now tiresome and tedious, I gutted my condo.   Over a two-week period I stripped my condo back to bare walls and concrete floors.  In the process, I ripped up the carpet, disassembled two full-sized closet organisers, threw out all of my living room furniture, my bedroom furniture, my dining room furniture, a china cabinet and it’s contents, all of my bed and bath linens, 50-60% of my clothing, my entire wool stash, two six-foot bookcases and all the books therein.

Prior to moving into my condo (from a multi-level, three bedroom townhouse), I had culled my belongings.  Mainly because I wasn’t in the mood to pack up and move everything I apparently owned. 

And quite frankly, I was shocked and appalled at the amount of “stuff” I had and didn’t really need in my new digs.  I made a lot of trips to Goodwill and dragged a lot of green garbage bags out to the curb.  And even after I “officially” moved into my condo, I made a few more trips down to the dumpster.

So I could be forgiven for believing I was living light and lean.

Until the fates forced my hand, leaving me no option but to pack, sort and shift all of my worldly belongings.

And once again I was appalled that no matter how many drawers, how many cupboards I cleaned and emptied, there still seemed to be twice as much junk left for me to sort through.

Then one afternoon, when I quite honestly was close to tears at the enormity of work I still had to do, I had a thought.   Instead of a housing emergency, what if I was facing a medical emergency.  And instead of cleaning and trashing at my own pace, under my own terms, I was trying to pack up my life and move it to an assisted-living facility, or long-term care facility?   Could I physically have packed up everything I currently owned?  What if someone else was having to pack for me?  Did I really need or even want absolutely everything I owned right now to follow me into an alternative living arrangement?  If there were only a few things I really wanted to take with me, could I actually find them?  For that matter, right here, right now, which plastic storage bin was the copy of the deed to my condo was in?  My will?

And suddenly, I was looking at everything I still had to sort and shift in a totally different light. 

Right then and there I decided if I couldn’t wear it, eat off of it, or sit on it – it was going into the dumpster.

And to this day, I have not missed any of the "stuff" I had believed was so important to me and my continued existence.  

I do believe that it would only take two strong, young men half a day to pack absolutely everything I now own into the back of a cube van and move me into the aforementioned home.

So, that learning/sharing opportunity I knew when I saw it …..

…. a piece of advice I wish I had taken more seriously when I began to plan for early retirement five years ago.

Start downsizing now.  

At least 5 years prior to your actual retirement date.

Go home tonight and mentally inventory everything you own.  Look in the hall closet, the bedroom closets, the kitchen cabinets, the china cabinet, under the beds, behind all the doors, the linen closet, the garage, the trunk of the car, the back deck, under the back deck, the shed, under the shed, behind the shed, the attic, the laundry room, the bathroom cabinets, the crawl space into which you have cleverly and insidiously been stuffing everything you had no real idea what to do with.

And be honest with yourself about what you find – chackas, bric-a-brac, souvenirs, heirlooms, mementos, baubles, bangles, collections, keepsakes, clutter, just plain junk ….. 

And then get rid of 50% of it. 

Don’t just re-arrange the mess in the hall closet. 

Donate it, trash it, pass it on, sell it, gift it to your nearest and dearest.

Just get rid of it.

Then, during the first month of your official retirement, get rid of 50% of everything you still own.

I wish I had been more ruthless about getting rid of more household junk before I actually retired.  When the time came and I was forced to deal with all the flotsam and jetsam in my life, I was five years older, five years more decrepit, with a brand-new arthritic knee which made the entire ordeal that much more physically challenging and draining.

I’m not quite living in a monk’s cell.  There are still some chackas to dust, and I just can’t quite curb the urge to buy a book or a CD every now and then. 

But if I had to, I think could quite happily have two strong young men throw everything I own into the back of a cube van and assisted living facility ho!!!