Not So Fast
I have a life insurance policy to ensure that Gloria and Eli will be well taken care of should anything happen to me.Maybe a little too well taken care of.
We were reviewing our living wills last night, or our physician's directives, or something. Death paperwork. Gloria came in after looking at her documents and said "They look great. Let's sign."
"Not so fast, my dear wife," I said. "Or should I say my dear life insurance policy beneficiary? What do you think of this section?" I asked. Then I showed her this:
If, in the judgment of my physician, I am suffering with an irreversible condition so that I cannot care for myself or make decisions for myself and am expected to die without life-sustaining treatment provided in accordance with prevailing standards of care.
"That's how it's supposed to read," she said.
"Is it?" I asked. "So when you fall in love with a doctor, and I'm admitted to the hospital, what if he mysteriously becomes my designated physician?"
"Good grief," she said.
"Exactly," I said. "He'll be ready to pull the plug if I have a chest cold. That's why I need a second guy to protect me from your guy. And do you know what my guy will say to your guy ?"
"Based on the last ten years, I'm afraid to ask," she said.
"Your guy will say 'I don't think he's going to make it,' and my guy will say 'You're a dermatologist.' "
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