Sarah’s story: young and indestructible

What I’m about to give you should be seen as a gift from the gods. You’ve all got those young, healthy, indestructible clients who would rather go out and spend $2,000 on a new TV, rather than do anything so trivial and ridiculous as protect their ongoing ability to maintain their lifestyle, wealth and independence.

You know who I’m talking about, don’t you?

This is me. And I’ve seen the light.

My brain recently developed a not insignificant tumour, which has, unfortunately had me holed up in hospital for a couple of weeks, and looking down the barrel of a couple of months of chemotherapy and radiation.

I’m 25, single and financially independent. This is thankfully due to my ability to earn an income, and not to large family wealth.

I have worked until very recently in a paraplanning role with a small but great team of people.

Deciding it was time for a change, I resigned and was in the process of moving on to a fantastic opportunity with Garrisons in Tasmania to actually get my hands dirty and get planning.

Timing is a wonderful thing — if you’re going to get crook, at least do it while you’re in the vulnerable position of changing employment, your sick leave and annual leave could run out any second, and your new employer could just boot you out after deciding you’re just not worth waiting for. Way to go, Sarah.

Not to mention that you’ve agreed to pay your existing employer back for the two CFP courses that you enrolled in this semester.

I’m hoping the FPA will be moderately compassionate on this point and realise that my best work isn’t necessarily going to be achieved while lying around for six weeks whinging about my hair falling out.

Two months ago I started getting headaches. As it was unusual, I went to a GP and she suggested that I was stressed about the job change. Physio was recommended, and it worked — at least for a couple of weeks. Then the headaches reappeared with a vengeance.

Then one Thursday at work, I couldn’t see properly. I thought it was a migraine, so I went home to take a few painkillers and lie down.

Shortly after this little episode, we went to visit family in Sydney.

Believe me when I say I don’t get travel sick. I love flying.

But merely 15 minutes before touching down I vomited quietly and inoffensively, in the middle of a conversation with a very nice Canadian man sitting beside me.

For the next few days, I was unable to do anything except lay on the couch.

Somehow, I made the bizarre leap of logic that, even though my eyesight seemed to be worsening, a bath and the strongest possible over-the-counter painkillers would make me feel better.

On Sunday we flew home, and again I struggled with nausea for the whole trip.

Driving home, we thought it may be prudent to take a detour to a GP. She was an amazing human being who looked me in the eye for five, maybe 10 minutes and said, “You know, for what it’s worth, we have a great brain surgeon here”.

She had me booked for a CT scan the next day. I was admitted into the Royal Hobart Hospital by seven o’clock Monday evening, with major brain surgery scheduled for Wednesday morning.

What a difference a day makes. This is where the real stuff for you guys begins.

I should probably mention that until my (old) GP suggested physio, I was seriously considering chucking in my private health cover. When on Earth was I going to need to go to hospital? I wasn’t planning on having kids anytime soon. What other reason is there to keep it, exactly, when you’re young, single and healthy? But then there was the physio, and the annual dentist check-up, and the cheap movie tickets. So I convinced myself to keep it.

But trauma insurance — when I was 25, healthy, single and financially independent? Who are these dodgy old lifers that I work with, anyway, and why are they trying to convince me that I need insurance that is for the old and infirm?

And what about income protection?

Strangely enough, we had only recently written income protection policies on my boss’ son and his close friends, all of whom were my age and in excellent health. I just couldn’t quite convince myself that I needed it. I mean, I could do financial planning from a wheelchair if I had to. But I was seriously contemplating taking out a policy, and doing a very good job of working on all friends and family with anything remotely resembling financial dependents or debt of any kind to do the same.

I know now that income protection would be nice (more than nice, in fact). Unfortunately, I’m stuck in a slightly uninsurable position for at least another 12 months until they decide to give me the all-clear on tumours reappearing.

And don’t even consider asking about term life insurance. God forbid contemplating actual mortality at the tender and invincible age of 25.

Ironically enough, I have reasonable life cover, and for no good reason. Because it’s through super, because I don’t have to pay a bill, because it’s far too easy.

How many clients do we have like this? Over insured on life cover, under insured on everything else.

Estate planning is also a bit of a relevant consideration right now.

Who, in the last fortnight, thought about the likelihood of dying and what that would do to family — just the practical stuff, like when is the rent due? What are my assets and debts? How do they get my super sorted out?

I can honestly say I contemplated getting into this horribly murky area, but in the end everything happened so ridiculously fast and I decided on avoidance, positive thought, and minimisation of the immediate emotional trauma for my family. I just thought, well, if it all goes to rubbish they are simply going to have to figure it out.

Next on my agenda is to draw up a will, work out power of attorney, and decide who gets my CDs.

In all seriousness though, it is all about knowing your client. I knew if something unfortunate befell me, I would have the resources, and amazing support to get me through it. I am so sincerely grateful that this will only have me out of action part-time for a couple of months.

What I’m hoping is to provide all of you wonderful planners out there with an opportunity for convincing silly headstrong folk like the under 25s (and under 30s, and under 40s) that you can be run over by a bus. Or you can have a brain tumour. Please make your clients read this article. Please write a stack of business on us — we can afford it! Just sell us on the tax deductions.

In the meantime, I hope my new bosses continue their patience and that the chemo doesn’t wreck me for too long.

After that I plan to write the most immense volume of life cover in the whole of Tasmania — beginning with the amazing neurology staff in the Royal Hobart Hospital. I already have the seminars underway.

Sarah Bergman wants to raise $1 million for leukaemia research. Visit www.leukaemia.com.