Oho, Paranoia, Big-Time!
I shouldn't watch the news. At all.
This morning, the news (rerun from last night) reported that 198 people have now died in Canada from H1N1. Of course, more people die from other strains of influenza every winter, but what's feeding the frenzy is that otherwise healthy people, with no underlying medical conditions, are felled in short order by the virus (45% of the deaths). The latest two being a 40-year old woman (somewhere in Quebec, maybe) and a 38-year old Carleton University professor.
Of course, 198 people out of about 33 million is 0.0006%. An incredibly small percentage of the population.
But that news report got me wound up this morning, worrying about the fur kids if something untimely should happen to me. One of my co-workers will take the cats, at least temporarily, until the right homes can be found for them. She is the only person I fully trust to take care of them properly with regard to nutrition, vet care, and so on. Thank you, D!
And because my dad is the beneficiary of my life insurance policy at work (the basic policy, equivalent to a year's income), I've instructed him--made him promise--that a good chunk of that money would go to D. (and then the people who take them permanently) for Annie's, Nicki's, and Derry's care. (Don't sweat it, Mom, you get my pension.)
I should have a will, I know, but with no assets (no life insurance on the house, no car, no savings), it's not really an issue, IMO, as long as one or both of my parents is alive. If I outlive both parents, then I'll arrange a will.
BTW, guys: No service. Cremation only and I want my ashes scattered in the woods in Spring, when the wildflowers are blooming. And for the love of the gods and goddesses, not in Gaspé. Ugh. Though I suppose somewhere along the York River, behind our old house, wouldn't be bad. That house was the only real home I've ever had. But the thought of having my remains permanently in Patterson/Eden/Miller country rather makes me gag. Not that I still have any lingering childhood issues....
Anyway.
My updated emergency contact list is tacked up in my cubicle, plus Mom and Dad have it. Spare keys to the house abound. I'm pretty sure co-worker S. has a spare set in her drawer; I know I have a spare set in my desk drawer, plus someone I know in town has a set too. I think. At least he did quite some time ago.
So there, I've dealt with my paranoia as best I can right now, getting the practical things out of the way. But maybe I should stop by the LCBO on the way home today and pick up something with alcohol--like 40%--just to fully deal with my worry and fears. LOL.
This morning, the news (rerun from last night) reported that 198 people have now died in Canada from H1N1. Of course, more people die from other strains of influenza every winter, but what's feeding the frenzy is that otherwise healthy people, with no underlying medical conditions, are felled in short order by the virus (45% of the deaths). The latest two being a 40-year old woman (somewhere in Quebec, maybe) and a 38-year old Carleton University professor.
Of course, 198 people out of about 33 million is 0.0006%. An incredibly small percentage of the population.
But that news report got me wound up this morning, worrying about the fur kids if something untimely should happen to me. One of my co-workers will take the cats, at least temporarily, until the right homes can be found for them. She is the only person I fully trust to take care of them properly with regard to nutrition, vet care, and so on. Thank you, D!
And because my dad is the beneficiary of my life insurance policy at work (the basic policy, equivalent to a year's income), I've instructed him--made him promise--that a good chunk of that money would go to D. (and then the people who take them permanently) for Annie's, Nicki's, and Derry's care. (Don't sweat it, Mom, you get my pension.)
I should have a will, I know, but with no assets (no life insurance on the house, no car, no savings), it's not really an issue, IMO, as long as one or both of my parents is alive. If I outlive both parents, then I'll arrange a will.
BTW, guys: No service. Cremation only and I want my ashes scattered in the woods in Spring, when the wildflowers are blooming. And for the love of the gods and goddesses, not in Gaspé. Ugh. Though I suppose somewhere along the York River, behind our old house, wouldn't be bad. That house was the only real home I've ever had. But the thought of having my remains permanently in Patterson/Eden/Miller country rather makes me gag. Not that I still have any lingering childhood issues....
Anyway.
My updated emergency contact list is tacked up in my cubicle, plus Mom and Dad have it. Spare keys to the house abound. I'm pretty sure co-worker S. has a spare set in her drawer; I know I have a spare set in my desk drawer, plus someone I know in town has a set too. I think. At least he did quite some time ago.
So there, I've dealt with my paranoia as best I can right now, getting the practical things out of the way. But maybe I should stop by the LCBO on the way home today and pick up something with alcohol--like 40%--just to fully deal with my worry and fears. LOL.
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