A guest post by Carol Seiler

Being prepared for life’s events concerns most people. Getting insurance coverage is usually at the top of the list. There are many specialties of insurance policies. Glossy brochures and sleek websites compel you to inquire for additional information and purchase their policies. Which do you choose? More importantly, which ones do you not need?

Most life insurance policies provide for the disbursement of a certain amount of money upon the death of the policyholder. The recipient is entitled to use the funds as desired such as payoff a mortgage or cover living expenses. With flexibility in the use of funds, purchasing life insurance policies in the proper amounts can provide your loved ones with the most benefits.

Five insurance plans that consume your funds

• Mortgage Life Insurance

You closed on the house of your dreams. Offers of mortgage life insurance policies flood your inbox and mailbox. With promises to pay off your mortgage in the event of your death, your interest increases. The amount of the policy is dependent on the mortgage balance. If there is no balance, there is no payout. If you have a pre-existing life insurance policy, the mortgage life insurance policy is one you can say no to.

• Cancer insurance

The thought of a terminal illness sends images of hospital stays, medicine bottles, and high medical costs. Putting a plan in place is a concern. Cancer insurance policies cover cancer-related expenses that your regular health insurance policy may not cover. If not a high risk for cancer, would you need the coverage? The key to your decision is to analyze your health insurance and determine if an upgrade provides a cheaper alternative to paying for a separate cancer policy.

• Collision coverage on older cars

If you drive and own a vehicle, you have automobile coverage. Most states require at least liability coverage. As your vehicle ages, it decreases in value. The collision part of your coverage covers damage to your car. If your deductible is more than the current value of your car, you are spending unnecessary money. It is advisable to set aside an emergency fund to cover repairs or replacement.

• Identity theft insurance

The potential costs related to identity theft could be astronomical. Some policies recover lost wages and provide for legal representation. They do not replace your stolen money. You deal with your creditors and may not need legal representation. You can make a police report, monitor your credit for any suspicious activity, and take steps to protect your personal information.

• Payment protection on credit cards

When you sign up for a credit card, the credit card company offers a payment protection plan. Its main selling point is payment of your credit card bill while you are sick or disabled. However, the fees for the payment protection plan add to your monthly credit card payment. If you add up the additional amount, you have spent money that could have gone towards paying down your balance.

Balancing insurance needs with your budget

Having proper insurance coverage is necessary for everyone. Overlapping insurance coverage and paying for unnecessary insurance is not good for your financial health. Taking the time to read the insurance details allows you to make informed decisions while taking care of the business of you and your loved ones.

Guest poster Carol Seiler is an insurance claims adjuster and freelance blogger writing on behalf of ppiclaims.org.uk.

Dear Jackie,  A couple of weeks I met a new woman in a bar in London. It was love at first sight for both of us. We made out in the toilets and it was the best sex I ever had. Unfortunately I lost my wallet somehow and had to sleep at her place, not that I minded . I noticed there were a lot of empty bottles shoved under the bed but didn’t say anything. Last week she came to my place and got very drunk and tied me to the bed. It was very exciting! I woke up and she had already left, but she wrote me a lovely note saying she had borrowed my laptop and iPhone and would be in touch very soon because she had such a great night. I haven’t heard from her since and I can’t get an answer on the number she left – or on my iPhone. Should I chase her or maybe just relax and wait til she calls? 

Yours, Eau de Toilette

Dear EdT

They say lightening never strikes twice.  I’m getting the feeling however that you might be the exception to the rule. Or, more likely, you have little sense of personal safety and no boundaries. On reflection, I believe it is the latter.

There is a large river in Egypt, it is in fact the longest in the world; it’s called the Nile. Many people are up to their necks in de nile, unable to see what is plain as the nose on your face (no disrespect as I’m sure your nose is really lovely).  The problem with denial is if you can’t see you’re being taken for a ride, or as a sucker, you will be fleeced, de- mac’d and totally screwed by those with less than honourable scruples.

I know this to be true as, like you,  I’ve always thought the best of others too. In the process however I have lost much – self respect, confidence, material goods, and the worst, trust from others when they found I was gullible and had a tendency for the self destruct button out of desperation for love and attention.

Self Destruct Button

We all know the ‘this will self destruct in one minute’ scenario from films. The truth is that it doesn’t take a spy or a coded message to activate it. All it takes is a person who is unable to believe in themselves. The rest is exploited by those who are so keenly attuned to the emotional plight of someone who has no self belief, love or feelings of worthiness. It’s almost like you are wearing a beacon picked up by their signal. Like a lone antelope in the veldt spotted by a hungry lion.

The Antelope

The antelope is preyed upon by the lion. It’s stalked. The lion loves the sense of capture; it plays upon the nerves and fear of the antelope, sometimes prolonging the chase. In nature, this is part of the cycle of life and death, the food chain. In humans, in sexual relationships, it is less than natural. It is unforgiving and relentless abuse and manipulation of a person by another for the wrong reasons. These people, and trust me there are both men and women, capitalise on fear of rejection, their prey’s need to be loved at any cost and inability to preserve their own body, mind and soul for  the sake of a human touch. Lies abound, words uttered by the hunter in full knowledge their impact is like a caress to the needy, yet delivering them as a sword to render them incapable.

From the Hunted to the Hunter

The hunted human usually reaches the point where their pain or loss is even greater than their fear of rejection.  At this stage, they start the retraining programme which changes how they feel about themselves.  They learn to take care of themselves, find self respect, hone the skills of self love and begin to choose different ways of living.  The hunter will no longer sense the magnets of shame, fear and desperation and will be seen for who they are – lonely predators.

The hunted human can become a hunter.  Not for prey, but for love.  They can search inside themselves, and ooze confidence and warmth as they cast a discerning eye, choosing only those who will add love into their lives instead of more fear and pain.

So dear Eau de Toilette, I would suggest you contact the police and report your items stolen.  And then I would take some time to work out what kind of relationship you really want.  You can give me a call if you like, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve to help you respect and love yourself.  I’m available via Greatvine on a pay per minute via your phone basis.

Happy families I: Would you help us start our family?

It appears that a fertility firm has been distributing leaflets offering up to £750 to tempt Cambridge Univerity students here in the UK to become “super brain” egg doners.

The leaflet allegedly states: ‘We are looking for a real-life angel to be our egg donor.’ and goes on to say ‘If you are compassionate, kind, healthy and between 18 and 35 years old, could you help us? We can imagine no greater gift than the chance to love a child.’

The firm behind the offer is getting round the fact that it is illegal to accept any payment for egg donation in the UK by the fact that compensation is allowed and the amount was upped to a maximum of £750 last month…

Tempting? Probably not as much as it first seems, even to potentially cash-strapped students as there are also potential physical and mental complications for the doner.

See more here

Meanwhile same paper same day, opposite end of the scale…

Happy families II: One baby per family

China, it appears, has completely the reverse problem. It is a country with a population of over 1.3 billion (I make that over a sixth of the entire earth’s current population) and its family planning laws limit most couples to having one child, which results in 13 million abortions a year. That figure, at over a fifth (20%) of the entire UK population is possibly too big to take in so the article helpfully points out that it’s equivalent to around 35,000 abortions a day.

On top of that there is also infanticide by those attempting to evade the fine that accompanies breaking the law, and ‘dying rooms’ in hospitals for unwanted newborns. There’s more on the subject here but beware: the story takes on a hairier aspect and gets much more grisly than I’ve chosen to highlight in this post.

Happy families III: Greek Euro misery

We hear about the derailment of the Greek gravy train within the European community yet I’m only now beginning to get an idea of the effect in ‘people’ and family terms…

• A young widow whose 3 children have lived at a charity home since her money ran out a year ago and she could no longer afford to feed and clothe them
• A hard working mother who lost her job when she took time off to look after her ill daughter over a year ago and hasn’t been able to find work since – who relies on friends to stay with
• And stories of mothers giving away their children: A toddler attending a nursery school where the fees had always been paid by her mother, was recently abandoned in with a note saying: ‘I will not return to get Anna. I don’t have any money. I can’t bring her up. Sorry.’

Surely these are the real modern day Greek tragedies of incompetent, inept governments and failing financial systems?
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Happy families IV: Is Dave surpassing himself this time?

I must admit I did something of a double take on this story and had to check the date to make sure we hadn’t regressed to April 1st…

It appears that Dave’s latest bright idea to tackle disfunctional families in the UK is to dispense £100 parenting class vouchers on how to bring up children, presumably with medicines, tissues, cosmetics… and the like at branches of High Street chain Boots. It’s a £5 million trial scheme to begin with, in Middlesborough, Camden (north London), and High Peak (Derbyshire). However, what’s the eventual bill going to be if it’s rolled out throughout England and Wales? And who’s going to foot it?

Interestingly I read, this not-so-little idea is apparently the ‘brainwave’ swansong of Dave’s head of  strategy, Steve Hilton, who this very week is hopping across the pond for a year in California as a lecturer. The paper doesn’t name where in California he’ll be llecturing or on what, but I’m sure they’ll welcome him with open arms!

What are your thoughts on any of the above stories?

In her shoes is a series  of anonymous posts from women in business, sharing their experience. In your comments you are asked to answer the question – What would you do in her shoes?

My story began 9 months ago; it is a story of self-realisation, friendship, love and betrayal.

After 11 years at home raising my family an opportunity arose to work for a friend. I jumped at the opportunity to exercise my creativity, a jump that 6 months later proved to be one without a safety net.

I took a job as a consultant to a burgeoning entrepreneur. I had never worked for an entrepreneur before, always having worked for large corporations that were highly structured with all systems in place. I was used to showing up at a new job where a welcome pack awaited me with staff guidelines, an employment contract and a human resources department to help settle me into the company. This was very different to anything I had ever experienced. There was a quasi-job interview, which happened on the very couch where I am writing this. I did have what could be deemed as job-training where I followed Ms X around London for 2 weeks shadowing her every move. She coined it as a “baptism of fire;” ironic considering the end result, more along the lines of “follow me into the depths of hell”.

I was intrigued by this entrepreneurial world, where people meet in private members clubs in London, discussed business propositions on how they were going to create their next million pound venture while sipping on a latte in a dimly lit room which had the feel of a night club as opposed to an office. I was not used to this environment, where at first glance it appeared as if nothing was being done, just a lot of talk and plenty of accolades for all those at the table. It felt a bit like high school, you had those that were up and coming and those that were condemned and ridiculed behind their backs and then loved when they were near.

It was nice being out of the house, leaving behind the laundry, cooking and cleaning, the tedious boredom that often arises once your children have moved onto senior school and become their own person, needing Mommy less and less. This was perfect, I got to dress in something other than my standard gym outfit, hang out with the “cool” people and make some money to help out at home.

So I promptly purchased a shiny new laptop, as my office would be my dining room table; I signed up as self-employed and began paying my taxes, and created a billing system for Ms X and started invoicing her for my consulting services. We had agreed on terms after my “baptism of fire” and I was to bill her monthly and she would pay within 30 days. I was ensured that this is how things were done in the entrepreneurial world and having blind faith and trust in Ms X I thought nothing of it.

The first 3 months were fantastic. We were creating a product from scratch; I was right there with Ms X and helped her turn her dream into reality. It was very exciting; I was intoxicated with the entire notion of entrepreneurs, and blinded with unwaivering belief and respect for Ms X.

The rose tinted glasses that I had been wearing began to clear when Ms X couldn’t pay me in full for my 2^nd Invoice. It then began; the promises, the plans, the tactics to keep me happy so I could finish the work that so desperately needed to be done. I kept the faith, I believed the promises, I trusted Ms X.

Doubt began to creep in and clear the glasses further, when on a visit home, my friends, family and respected business professionals who were less green than I began to widen the holes in the frail fabric that I had been enveloped in.

My belief in the product and how Ms X began to present herself to others worried me deeply. I am not so naïve that I do not recognise that there is some aspect of smoke and mirrors when starting a new venture, but it had gone beyond smoke and mirrors and was now just plain dishonesty. Other people were now involved and being swept up with promises of a huge financial pay out, others began to pay for this product and believed in what Ms X was selling them.

As it happens, my resentment for not being paid for my work began to seep in, as other services providers around me, that were now needed to help the business grow, were being paid – while my invoices were left in the “I.O.U.”  pile.

6 weeks before my resignation I decided it was time to put Ms X’s promises to the test, and I pushed for a formal contract. The contract was of course delayed, and litanies of excuses were given, but I still believed.

4 weeks before I resigned, I sat there and watched Ms X further bury herself with empty promises to those around her; I began to feel physically sick about the entire process. I would wake up every morning with a knot in my stomach feeling nauseated about what was happening around me. I would push down my doubts and tell myself that Ms X wasn’t taking advantage of me; that she would honour her promises to all those around her and that everything would be alright.

I should have listened to what my body was telling me, and ended our arrangement months before, on the day that she didn’t pay me in full.

I knew I had to resign even before I received the contract. A part of me still wanted to believe in Ms X but I couldn’t spend another day feeling nauseated by Ms X’s dishonesty, and continuing to ignore what was happening around me would only be helping Ms X to perpetuate the dishonesty that she was spreading.

After weeks of pursuing Ms X for a formal contract to continue my consultancy services, I was presented with a contract. A contract that was given to me all beautifully wrapped in a box, sadly the box much like her promises, was empty.

My heart broke on that day, and I still can’t remove the knife that is buried deep within my back. I am not ashamed to admit that I spent 3 days crying, all the love, faith and trust that I had had, was torn away.

Unfortunately my tale does not end here; I am now pursing payment for my 5 outstanding invoices in court.

Surely Ms X can’t just present a Judge with an empty box?

Time will tell.

As an Israeli (I was born there although bought up in the UK) I’m incredibly proud of my heritage and although I fully support the Army in truth I’m totally against war and fighting of any kind. But then I guess I don’t always live in the real world…

Fish out of water

20 years ago I decided to spend a year in Israel and do voluntary work. As part of that I also carried out Army training. Now 20 years ago, although I was thinner and had more energy I was also a little bit of a wuss (and that’s putting things politely!). I really had no idea what I was signing up to (my ulterior motive of being a single 18 year old girl mixing with lots of fit Army men was calling me!)

Well sadly my little plan of mixing with lots of fit men didn’t’ quite pan out as I had hoped. Upon arriving we were assigned to two women officers who were there to look after us – and punish us! It’s also fair to say that they weren’t keen on speaking English and all the orders were pretty much in Hebrew (I knew a little at the time).

We were immediately given our Army uniforms and once changed (literally minutes later!) army drills and running commenced!

A very cold, weak and passivist one…

I remember at the time it was freezing cold. I can’t quite remember where the army base was (possibly the Golan Heights?) all I recall is how it was sooo cold!

It was also a very emotional time. Learning and using an M16 (Israeli rifle) was too much for me. I’d like to say it was the fact of shooting a gun (rather than not being very good at it!) that made me cry! I had never used a gun before and growing up in the UK, hadn’t even seen one – and haven’t seen or used one since my time in Israel. Not only are they very heavy but your whole body shakes when you fire and it’s at this point you realise that if someone is in front of you that you will literally kill them (or probably injure them in my case as I wasn’t very good at hitting the red spot!)

I think it was at this point that I decided that I think I would be one of those people that would prefer to be killed rather than kill someone. It was interesting to see how the gun training affected the group of people I was with. Of course there were the typical blokes who were on a power trip and loved it, there were some who didn’t even think about it and then I think there were me and another friend who found the whole experience incredibly emotional and made you really think what all this is about. You are trained to kill and it’s a very scary skill to have.

An itchy one, too

But army training isn’t’ all about using a gun. Oh no, for some strange reason it’s really important that you learn how to make a bed and use really itchy horrible blankets as well!!! I have no idea what that’s about. Ok, I get the discipline and being able to take orders but having your beds inspected daily (or was it twice a day?!) seems like a ridiculous point to me.

Mornings started promptly at 5:30am when we were woken and had about 20 minutes to get ready – we always had to wear our uniform and boots (and make our beds!) I can’t remember what time we went to bed, I would imagine it was no later than 10pm. I just remember going to bed feeling exhausted, mentally drained and cold!

And the physical side!

Field training was another experience I had forgotten about – until now writing this blog post it’s all painfully flooding back. All I can say is thank goodness there are no pictures around of me! At first I got excited at the thought of doing this – it looked kind of cool in the movies. Trust me, applying coal to your face (so you can learn about camouflaging) and then learning the army crawl and ducking when pretend grenades have been thrown at you is not a walk in the park!!

We also learnt how to hide ourselves in order to survive an attack. After about 8 hours or crawling on rubble, ducking and diving I realised I truly wasn’t cut out for the Army would more than likely not have survived!  This training was physically exhausting, not only was it hard work but you have to remember the soldiers are screaming at you too.

The food?

And don’t get me started on the food! I admit I’m not the easiest eater and can be a little fussy but I don’t think I ate much (apart from sneaking in halva and chocolate!) In fact a lot of the time the food would get cold as you would have to wait for everyone to come in and be quiet.

Not all the Army training was physical. We also had lectures on issues of military strategy and how and not use a gun (we also learned the different parts of the gun). I did enjoy having interesting discussions about whether it’s the weapon that kills or the person behind the gun that’s making the decision.

Any regrets?

I don’t regret my experience, although it was a very emotional and painful time. I have the utmost respect for any person who fights in the army, whichever the country. What saddens me is that 20 years later there is still a need for this and in truth things are probably worse than they were back then.

Indignantly, I responded to the invitation by saying I thought it was disgracefully irresponsible that a commercial event should be promoted along the lines of suggesting that cancer can be cured or prevented, because I know for a fact that there are no such certainties.

However, I have to be fair here, and also admitted that whatever complementary treatments and activities the organizers were offering could quite legitimately be supportive in conjunction with conventional medicine.

Equally, the promoter came back to me and rubbed my nose in this fact, assuring me that the fees involved were only intended to cover the cost of hiring the venue … hinting that there was no profit involved for the organizers or speakers. Well, whatever….hmmmm…

Not the death sentence it once was

Rather than quote you from a load of medical papers that say this or that, I’m only going to give you my opinion as a cancer patient – and hope that healthcare and pharma professionals like Sally Church will join in this conversation and comment.

I have had connections with cancer for many years, starting with my late maternal grandmother who died of metastatic ovarian cancer when I was a little girl. All they could do for her primary cancer in those days was to give her a hysterectomy with no further treatment, and by the time she was diagnosed already it had spread to the bones.

In the last ten years I lost my mother to lung cancer, and as I mentioned have had two unrelated cancers myself. I’m still here.

In the last five years I’ve been doing voluntary work as a cancer patient representative within the UK’s National Health Service (NHS). Even in that short time, I have realized that more and more cancer patients who would have been terminal a decade or so ago, are now living with cancer.

I attend many meetings and workshops in my region of the UK where several attendees are cancer patients living with active disease. Lung cancer representatives in our group were few and far between a few years ago, because they tended not to live very long. Now we have two who are living normal lives and keeping the cancer at bay. Someone else I know has metastatic breast cancer to quite a severe degree and two years after diagnosis is still running her home and riding her horses.

Why? Because constant research and new drugs are, if not eradicating it, at least are making it more liveable with for longer – often many years longer.

So is cancer on the way out?

The short answer is no. If anything cancer is becoming more widespread as our population ages.

On a brighter note, however, cancer gradually is turning into a range of chronic diseases that can be controlled for a long time while allowing the patient to enjoy a good quality of life. It is still too early in our scientific era to say definitively that cancer can be “cured” – at best we cancer veterans say that we’re “in remission” and hopefully remain that way until we have reached our normal lifespan. Doctors will sometimes say that you’re cured and technically that’s correct, but as a patient when you hear that you tend to cross your fingers so as not to tempt Providence.

Cancer prevention is another highly controversial issue, and apart from observing the common sense issues like quitting smoking and not overdoing the sun bathing, the reality is that we really don’t know why some people get cancer and some don’t. Research is bringing us nearer to finding out; genetic implications are now being investigated properly and as a result prevention might well be a more realistic proposition before long.

And in conclusion…

No matter how much progress we’re making with the knowledge, control and potential curing/prevention of cancer, tragically some of us still die well before our time.

It’s comforting to know, however, that the mainstream pharma industries are working around the clock to develop more and better drugs to “cure” our cancers or at least bring them under long-term control.

I just hope that people dealing with cancer can view both the mainstream medical treatments and the complementary treatments and activities in the lights that respectively they deserve.

There were no pleasantries, a sign normally that a favour is about to be asked or a question which normally does not give her the answer she is hoping for. Sadly, it was neither

The dreaded question was grunted quietly from her – “Mum, I’ve got PE tomorrow. We’re not allowed PE bottoms, which is like so unfair. I’ve been in your toiletry cupboard (no permission granted for this), and there’s no stuff. I need to shave.”

Oh how I have dreaded this day; a number of reasons spring to mind which some of you will sympathise and understand.

1: My teenager, although loving, level headed and sensible has absolutely no common sense. None. Not even a microdot.

2: This would involve adult supervision, which if you own a teenage girl you would immediately understand is a thing of great difficulty.

3: Shaving would involve the use of water and soap, both products which children are apparently allergic to using

4: Nudity, it would involve her actually showing a part of her body to her mother – something that has not happened since age 10 when one day she went to bed a sweet innocent lollipop sucking innocent, and arrived downstairs the next morning a monster!

I panicked, I grabbed the Pinot Grigio for support and switched on the TV for moral guidance.

It suddenly came to me, a cunning plan. A recent episode of This Morning (Sky Plussed for those times when there is just nothing else on) held the answer to my prayers. A lady, not just any lady. A lady who would encourage and persuade my daughter that hair was good. In fact, that hair was beautiful and should not be hidden.

I informed the monster (13 year old daughter who I love) that I would be up to knock on her bedroom door (we have to knock now, the posters emblazoned with DO NOT ENTER ensure we know this) in half an hour.

I hit the play button and sat back intrigued, waiting to be informed that I should not worry about shaving, waxing, epilating etc. That I should be at one with myself and feel confident with my own body.

Instead, I was sat aghast staring at a pair of legs that were hairier than an England rugby player in winter. As I listened to the interview I realised that the lady was making some exceptional points to us. I realised that I had never thought about why I waxed, or who had encouraged me, or why I even thought that going out in public with underarm and leg hair was bad.

Many women in other countries never shave, it is deemed acceptable, normal by others in certain cultures. Yet, in the UK if one was to remain hairy legged, matted through their nude tights, an Afro in their nether regions they would be crucified by their peers, ridiculed in public.

I applaud this lady who has made a stand, who has passed on her experiences and opened our eyes to choice.

As soon as the interview was over I jumped up and ran straight up the stairs like a mad woman. I ignored the warning notices and dared to leap unannounced into the monsters bedroom.

“Natasha, Natasha, the most amazing woman was on TV, she says you shouldn’t shave your body hair, as you should be natural.”

I proceeded to shove her into the bathroom, under the shower and shave those legs!

I may have been enlightened, I may have understood and I may have agreed – but the sight of those hairy legs staring out at me across the TV waves made me realise those hairs just had to go!