Life and death

April 4, 2014 § 3 Comments

You gotta love life insurance. It’s just one massive bet, isn’t it – with the odds stacked hugely in the insurer’s favour. Basically, this is how it works:

1. You decide that in order to provide for your family if something happens to you, life insurance is the way to go.

2. You contact your broker, who works out the best option and gives you a stack of papers to fill in. He leaves smiling at the commission he’s going to get, and in return you get writer’s cramp from filling in every tiny detail of your life – from the blind pimple you had last week to the corns on your granny’s toes that may or may not have killed her. Because heaven forbid they find out after your untimely demise that you failed you mention that. It might have been a factor in the bus accident that took you out. (What if you’d been a little more nimble? What if the corn on your toe had been properly dealt with by the podiatrist? YOU MIGHT STILL BE ALIVE!!! Sorry, we can’t pay out.)

3. You jump through a million hoops. Doctors’ reports. Blood tests. Things that require being measured and weighed. Why? To manage their risk. And don’t think the form-filling-in has stopped yet – no, you have to give consent, and explain all the stuff you’ve explained before, and remember every single bloody doctor or physio or dental visit you’ve ever head, in minute detail, possibly describing which shoes said doctor or physio or dentist was wearing at each appointment, as well as a comprehensive breakdown of the weather on each occasion. Because it’s all relevant.

4. They finally deign to grant you cover, but there are always exclusions. You’re too fat. Your blood pressure is too high. Or too low. Or too normal. Or you’re not covered for any musculo-skeletal conditions because you once saw a physio when you got a crick in the neck. Perhaps they spotted you walking a block on your daily run last week. Gasp! Shock! Horror! You’re so unhealthy!

5. You fork out a fair proportion of your hard earned money FOREVER with only suspicion, exclusion and bureaucracy in return.


Because the chief aim is not to pay out, you understand. That’s how they make their money. Sure, if you’ve only paid one or two premiums and you pop your clogs, and you jumped through all the hoops before you died, they’ll pay out, but they know the chances are slim. They know you’re not taking life insurance because you fully expect to keel over in a month or two. The odds are so ridiculously stacked in their favour, it’s obscene.


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§ 3 Responses to Life and death

  • Kit says:

    And the minute you don’t pay a premium, that’s it, it’s all gone up in smoke. Go back to begin, do not collect $400, start the hoops all over again.


  • Nicola says:

    And don’t you dare mention anything to do with pregnancy. You didn’t have potnatal depression, it was straight depression. Cos if you off yourself as a result of postnatal depression then it was doubly your fault and you’ll probably have to pay them.


  • mariekeates says:

    Probably enter just to bank the money and cross your fingers 🙂


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