Praying for life without Medical Aids

I had been waiting for this day in particular with baited breath: Discovery Health presentation day at The Witness. Don’t mock my sarcasm. When you’re a bloke like me there are only so many things I can get out of paying so much money for a medical aid: Gym and a dentist appointment every six months. For women, it’s different, I am sure. For 27-year-old men, it’s pointless.

Today, sitting in the boardroom at lunch, my stomach croaked out loud with hunger pains as a fit gym-going pregnant blonde with a diamond wedding ring rubbed her belly and told us about the pleasures of getting cancer and having one’s limbs chopped off, due to all the amazing specials Discovery 2010 had on offer.

Now, they know people hate being sold something only for those with dire health. So they spend 15 minutes on the joys of dying and then another 45 minutes on the incredibly complicated way you can earn points and money by living healthily and doing a million and one jumps through hoops. There’s Vitality Health where you earn big bucks by buying veggies at Pick ’n Pay. That’s great for my friends Sharon, Kelly and Bronwen, but not for me. There’s Vitality Virgin Active, which I have done… twice. I’ve cancelled because the gym in Hilton is closer and I am more likely to go there than the one in Maritzburg. Well, maybe.

I tried to raise a point but was cut dead. It was this: To benefit from all this and make money out of my medical aid which I never use, I really need to employ a personal financial director as well as an assistant to correctly cross the t’s and dot the I’s (and do my grocery shopping). If I can’t have them, then I’ll just take my minimal medical aid scheme, and throw it into the drawer of my desk, which like the rest of the junk I collect will grow dust over time.

I guess when I get sick one day I will have to revaluate this diatribe. Until then, it’s party, work, play… and pray.