(03) 9020 2905Mrs DebtMan is a little prone to migraines. She gets them occasionally, maybe half a dozen times a year. They might last for a few hours or a day.
This one was different. It was still there after a week.
She saw a doctor on about days 9, 10 and 12. Then some other, more concerning, symptoms started showing. When the migraine was still running at day 16, it was time to join her at the GP. Half an hour later, we were in emergency at the local hospital.
The GP’s initial concerns were terrifying. A trans-ischaemic attack (which is something like a pre-stroke stroke), a stroke itself, or a clot, were possibilities.
The following day came the specialist’s opinion, and it wasn’t anywhere near as dire. Lifestyle changes, plus a pile of pills Keith Richards might be proud of, for a period of months, are required. (Me being positive: “Could we stash a few for really bad hangovers?”)
Next came a strict “headache-free” diet, which takes out all of life’s fun bits (chocolate, caffeine, cheese, MSG, pizza, etc) and replaces them with meat and three veg. (Me being supportive: “That’s okay, sweetheart, I can eat that boring rubbish too.”)
And then the kicker – a months-long booze ban. (Me showing concern: “WHAT!? Darling, I REALLY think we need a second opinion.”)
But, like the “I want to believe” poster on Fox Mulder’s office wall, Mrs DebtMan wants to trust the neurologist and is confident it’s the right path.
It appears she’ll be okay. Sober, but okay.
If new experience brings empathy, then one positive of the four-day hospital stay was that I got a better understanding of the plight of the single parent.
Up even earlier to get kids off to creche. Work harder during the day. Struggling to feed, wash and read to them before bed. Feed self. Collapse. Coma.
I can truly marvel at those single parents who also run successful small business, as I did not-very-well for four days.
However, worse was being left to ponder a few unthinkables. What happens if this is really serious? What happens if Mrs DebtMan is about to, or has had, a stroke? What happens if a vein in her noggin did pop?
What if this single parenting experience became permanent? Or the alternate? What if my somewhat imperfect lifestyle caused Mrs DebtMan to become a single mum?
Emotional devastation, of course. A wife without a husband (or vice versa). Two kids without a parent. Grief I struggle to imagine. Horrid, horrid thoughts.
No parent wants to think about it, though all will occasionally. It might be when you kiss your kids goodnight, or when they run down the hall to greet you home, or when they do something special and look at you and say: “Are you proud of me, Daddy?”
If you’re gone, will you be missed? What will you miss? That’s the selfish stuff.
What about the financial mess you’ll leave behind? Will your grieving family also be kicked out of home because they can’t afford the massive mortgage?
Or, what if it didn’t kill you, but you’re left unable to walk or work. If the breadwinner couldn’t work for a year, the statistics overwhelmingly suggest the home would be lost.
Fingers crossed, I’ll be nearly 59 when my youngest turns 21. Obviously, I want to see DebtBoy and DebtGirl grow to become parents themselves.
But until they turn at least 21-ish, they’ll be relying on us to provide financially. And that should be whether I’m alive, dead, dying, maimed, or mentally incapacitated. When you sign up for kids, you sign up to take them to adulthood.
If it wasn’t obvious before now, I’m talking insurance.
Life insurances is, actually, about the opposite of selfishness. It’s about making sure their lives aren’t financially devastated when they’re going through an emotional tsunami.
A major accident/illness (severe migraines, or my hangovers, don’t count) or death shouldn’t financially destroy your family.
And life insurance is not expensive in your 20s, 30s and 40s. Further, much of it can be done inside super.
Sure, ponder what you’d miss with the kids if you weren’t around any more. But take it one step further and think about how you can minimise the damage.
Bruce Brammall is the author of Debt Man Walking (www.debtman.com.au) and a licensed financial adviser. bruce@debtman.com.au .