Thursday, December 15, 2011

100 Year old Doctor Still Making House Calls

The senior circuit ain't never seen anything like me before

Dr. Fred Goldman still makes house calls. He must, he explains. That’s where the patients are. “If they’re sick and can’t leave home,” he said, “I go to see them.” On Monday, they came to see him. Patients, friends and family — some using walkers, some in strollers — gathered in numbers passing the century mark at the Avondale office Goldman calls “the dump,” to throw a surprise birthday party for the internist who is the oldest licensed physician practicing medicine in the state of Ohio. Dr. Fred Goldman is 100.

Big Whoop Padre, 100 is for suckers, have I ever told you guys I'm living until I'm 136 (at least)? That's right, me and the Maestro (@mazz33) have a standing wager that I, CW, your fearless leader, will be still kicking at 136 years old. The year will be 2120, mark it on your smartphones. 

The logic? Between the advances in modern science, technology, and healthcare, and my moderate level of income, I just can't see myself succumbing to some average sickness or disease. I escaped all the youthful pratfalls like AIDS, Polio, Malaria, and TB, so I'd say I'm in the clear on this one. The terms of the bet do not include Murder, or catastrophic deaths like plane crashes, or being blown away by hurricanes. It does include drowning, because lets face it, if I drown, that's my own fault (excluding Titanic like situations where my boat capsizes). This is strictly based on death by natural causes. 

One thing we haven't figured out is how to arrange payment, my problem is, Maestro will probably be long dead by my 136 birthday, and I'm not going to be left holding the bag for gambling welch just because he died like 40 years ago. So we're going to need to look into setting up some kind of living trusts, with a will declaring who gets the funds in the events of both our demises. If for some reason my projections for the healthcare industry are wrong and I only live until 126 or something, I want to make sure I go out a gentelman, my debt paid in full. Since, again, Maestro will have been long dead by that point, I'm going to need a list of descendants that the trust can be released to in the event of my death.

So clearly we've got a few details to iron out, but the main point of the story is, this Doc can calm down on the bragging about still making house calls at 100. Mildly impressive, but nothing compared to the Pick-Up Kickball league championship I'm going to win when I'm like 110.