Month: August 2019

Definitions matter. Definitions and standards literally define and set standards so that we have a common understanding of words, concepts, or measurements. Definitions help us define what the meaning of “is” is, and standards standardize the exact measurement of a foot (12 inches).

Despite definitions and standards, however, there still remains confusion and lack of consensus on many topics. In the academic field of leadership study, for example, there is no agreed upon definition of leadership, nor is there a taxonomy, or agreed upon conceptual framework, for use in analyzing the topic.

In patient care, there is much ambiguity centering on pain measurement and management. This is certainly *not* helped by the widespread adoption for use with adult patients of a pain graphic designed for children. Particularly for adult patients with chronic pain, it is very oversimplified and imprecise (not to mention demeaning) to point to a frowny face to describe their pain.

This is why I now carry my own copy of a better pain chart with me to doctor’s appointments (see below): I can precisely define my anchors [which, I learned in academic training, is essential to having a valid scale (c.f. this)]. Plus, my pain is no longer subjective – I have submitted to my doctor an objective pain scale that precisely describes my current type and level of pain.

In the area of personal finance, there is a great deal of debate about foundational issues such as the definitions of “retirement,” “financial independence,” and “early retirement.” Personally, I have adopted J.D. Roth’s Stages of Financial Freedom metric (see below), in which he describes six stages of financial freedom, ranging from Stage 0 “Dependence” (at which your lifestyle is dependent upon financial support from others) to Stage 6 “Abundance” (at which “Your passive income from all sources will not only fund your lifestyle indefinitely, but grant you the freedom to do whatever you want.”). [Technically, there are seven stages, but six of them are stages of independence, while the first stage is that of dependence – it doesn’t bother me that J.D.’s six stage model arguably has seven stages, but I acknowledge that point for those of you who will take issue with it.]

Currently, bloggers in the FIRE sphere are debating and trying to collate various definitions of financial freedom: FIRE, Barista FIRE, LeanFIRE, FatFIRE, Morbidly Obese FIRE, etc. Basically, the discussion (as I see it) is an attempt to quantify the range of income individuals are comfortable setting as a goal/achieving as annual income in retirement/early retirement.

While there can be utility in such an endeavor, particularly as a way to define income range without talking about specific personal finance numbers (i.e., “I am aiming for FatFIRE, which is generally accepted to mean at least $100,000/year income” rather than saying, “I currently make x number of dollars, and I plan to save 30x before I ‘retire'”), J.D.’s model really resonated for me, and I find it a useful tool for thinking about my behaviors and financial effects as well as those of others (much like the descriptions in the comparative pain scale are).

For example, some of us in the personal finance/FIRE sphere come from working-class backgrounds. As Kristy Shen explains in her recent book, Quit Like a Millionaire, one’s socioeconomic status as a child can affect one’s perspective on money and personal finance matters for the rest of one’s life. Additionally, as pointed out by several PF/FIRE POCs (persons of color), such as El Camino a FI and Revanche, having cultural expectations to support/assist some or all of one’s family members can make it much more difficult to advance through the stages of financial freedom.

In our case, Spousal Unit and I both came from working-class backgrounds and each felt obligated to help our parents and siblings financially. This has certainly had an impact on our advancement through J.D.’s Stages of Financial Freedom, and continues to impact us today. I would say that Spousal Unit and I are currently at Stage 5 “Independence” (helped, in large part, by a military pension). However, most of our family members remain somewhere between Stage 0 “Dependence” and Stage 2 “Stability.” In fact, most of them bob back and forth between Stage 1 “Solvency” and Stage 0 “Dependence,” despite our best efforts to help them achieve greater financial freedom.

Spousal Unit and I have spent considerable resources (time, money, vacation days, etc.) caring for our family members and attempting to help them improve their financial situations. But, over the years, we have grappled with the same questions I see raised by some of these other bloggers/podcasters:

“Where is the line between helping and enabling?” and “What do you do if the individual wants a handout, not a hand up?”

Crew Dog, One Sick Vet

One of our parents is currently at Stage 0 and seemingly has no interest in changing their behaviors. They are completely dependent on us and on their sister for basics like housing and transportation. We (including the sister) try not to enable them (for example, we give them gift cards to specific restaurants, stores, etc. rather than cash). But it can be very difficult not be resentful when you are playing the ant to some else’s grasshopper.

Anonymess made a comment on Revanche’s blog recently that I found very helpful: “Spouse and I have also given smaller amounts — $700-$1,500 — to family and friends. We have a rough policy: we’ll make the loan if we’re liquid enough at the time, and everyone “qualifies” for about $1,000 total. We let the borrower know that if they’re unable to repay us we’re happy to consider the money a gift, but if they do repay us, we’ll have the money to lend to them again.”

My takeaway from this is to establish boundaries that you (and your partner, if applicable) are comfortable with regarding money and “helping” others. Will you loan money to others? If so, whom? Anyone who asks? Only family? Close friends? Only people who will pay you back? Only people who are really trying to improve their situations? Only people who want/need the money for a really good reason? How much money will you lend? How long will they have to pay you back? Whatever you decide is appropriate for you becomes your boundaries.

I like Anonymess’s boundaries because they are specific: up to ~$1,000 per person, and if the money is repaid it is available to borrow again. Some other rules that many people use are never to loan more than they can afford to lose, never to count on being repaid, and never to co-sign a financial agreement for a less-credit-worthy individual.

The important part is to determine, before you are asked, what your boundaries are regarding helping family or friends financially, and then to establish and enforce those boundaries.

Crew Dog, One Sick Vet

Tough love doesn’t feel good for the person receiving it, and it doesn’t feel good for the person distributing it. But it is typically the difference between truly helping and enabling. It sounds harsh, but you have to put your own oxygen mask on first. Also, you can’t share what you don’t have. There are no loans for retirement; if you haven’t saved enough/accumulated enough assets, you’re screwed. And some people will use someone until they’ve bled them dry, and then they’ll move on to the next person, leaving desolation in their wake. Letting yourself be used (and possibly bankrupted) doesn’t actually help the other person become financially responsible, and it certainly doesn’t help you become more financially independent.

Please join the conversation. Have you been asked (or is it a cultural expectation) to help family members or friends financially? How has it affected/is it affecting your progression through the financial freedom stages? How do you deal with the feelings (yours and theirs)? Does your partner agree with your position on the issue or not? Have you established boundaries or found other tools, guidelines, or advice that has helped you? Should this and similar topics be acknowledged and discussed more frequently in the personal finance/FIRE space? How can the FIRE sphere encourage more diversity?

Or do you have something to say about pain scales or other helpful tools for dealing with chronic illness?

Please add your voice/perspective to the comments!

Another quick blog post today.

The house needed a new roof since (before) we bought it. It started actually leaking in February. Since then, water has leaked into the living room every time it rained substantially.

Getting a new roof has been an ordeal. There are fewer reliable roofers where we live than roofs that need repaired.

The roofing crew were here today doing a portion of the work. Actual bets are being made as to weather 😀 whether we will have a sound roof before hurricane Dorian moves through/past the area.

Never a dull moment.

This is just a quick update to let y’all know that Spousal Unit & I are a bit busy at the moment.

We have been fighting a protracted battle with an incompetent loan team over a VA loan refinance (known as an IRRRL – Interest Rate Reduction Refinancing Loan).

And that has been taking all of my energy – hence the reason I have not been posting here on the blog.

[Yeah, hence!]

Rest assured that I will have a FULL blog post on the CF goat rope after the refinance is completed, which will include Lessons Learned.

Please standby for VA IRRRL AAR.

A.K.A. Why We Moved From Colorado to Florida

On paper, moving to Colorado for retirement made a lot of sense. We’d lived there before and knew we liked it. We had friends who had retired from the military there. We had actual and potential job opportunities there. We could purchase acreage and grow some of our own food and raise some of our own livestock (chickens/ducks/a pig/maybe sheep).

So, after 9 months of looking, when we found the right Colorado house we bought it. We had five acres with amazing mountain views. Plenty of trees, but still some open land for a garden and a green house and some livestock. Country peace and quiet with easy access to town amenities. We were excited for all the things we would do.

And then I proceeded to get more ill than I’d ever been in my life. Orders of magnitude worse than when I’d “only” had chronic intractable migraines. I struggled to hold on to my goal of finishing my degree, and fought to get a diagnosis and a cure, but to no avail. Despite building a team of competent medical specialists in Colorado, I continued to get more ill and disabled. I often spent days or weeks on one story of our house because I didn’t have the energy or the knee capacity to go up and down the stairs. The scope of my life got smaller and smaller until I mostly lived in one room, leaving the house only to go to medical appointments. Spousal Unit handled all other interactions with the outside world.

When I finally realized that I might never find a cure, that I might never be restored to better health, I realized I might have to surrender not only my dreams of completing my degree and starting a new career, but also our dream of living in the Rockies. As I struggled to come to grips with my new reality, I eventually asked myself this key question:

Assuming my health will never improve, how do I want to live what remains of my life?

Crew Dog, One Sick Vet

I had been hung up on searching for a health cure; on finding a way to power through my dissertation and to complete my PhD; on fulfilling everyone’s expectations; on living up to my potential; on continuing to take care of others; on continuing to live a life of service.

But when I thought about accepting that my health had permanently changed, that, therefore, my life had permanently changed, it enabled me to consider possibilities.

I could continue to exist in limbo, frustrated that I was unable to complete my degree and pursue the career I had intended, or I could finally pry my bloody fingers loose from holding on to the end of my rope and get on with living my new life, my new normal.

It took *years* to relinquish those dreams and to accept that I was not going to be able to achieve those goals.

But when I started to consider other possibilities, when I started to consider accepting my limitations, I found freedom. Don’t get me wrong – the process of arriving at this destination was agonizing and included times when I didn’t see the point of continuing to live.

But I eventually discovered that accepting my limitations gave me permission to say no to other people’s expectations.

And once I stopped thinking I had to do what I thought I was supposed to do, I could start considering what I really wanted to do.

Eventually, I decided that I needed to leave Colorado to have any hope of improving my health. So we starting thinking about what we would want/need in a hypothetical new retirement location.

My joints hurt in Colorado, especially during the cold months. So I thought it’d be good if this hypothetical place was warmer. And my health seemed to improve when I was at lower altitudes, so this hypothetical place should probably be at a much lower altitude.

I asked myself what I would want my life to look like if all I could do was lie in bed all day. And I decided it would be pretty amazing if I could look out my window and see water. I asked myself what kind of outdoor exercise I’d like to do if I were capable of doing any. And I thought I’d like to walk on the beach, or walk/float in the water, or swim if I could. And I’d really love it if I could scuba dive again.

Spousal Unit & I weighed possibilities. And then we moved to a place that made far less sense on paper than Colorado. We’d never lived there. We did not have friends there. We did not have actual or potential job opportunities there. We couldn’t afford acreage there. And I would be starting all over building a new team of medical providers, leaving behind the really good team of providers I had slowly and carefully built in Colorado.

But this excellent team of Colorado healthcare providers had been unable to diagnose or cure me. The orthopedic surgeon had repaired my injuries and removed the associated pain. The rest of my team had provided the best care they knew. But my quality of life was continuing to diminish. I only left the house for doctor’s appointments, and I spent days afterward recovering. I had reached the point where I did not think I would survive another winter in Colorado.

So we sold our forever home in the dream location in the Colorado Rockies, and started all over again – in Florida.

It hasn’t been easy, and I can talk about that in another post. But I wanted to acknowledge that not everyone can afford to take such radical action, even if their lives depend on it.

Spousal Unit & I had the resources to be able to afford to start over again somewhere new. So many chronically ill/disabled people do not. We could talk in the comments about intersectionality, and the many ways in which I was disadvantaged in my youth, and the few ways in which I was not. But I readily admit that I was incredibly fortunate that Spousal Unit & I had already laid the groundwork for financial security before I became chronically ill/disabled. We are privileged that we had good health in our youth, adolescence, and young adulthood, and were able to attend and graduate college and get well-paying jobs. We were able to build a strong financial foundation. We were able to secure a military pension. Without this foundation, we would not have been able to move to our new location.

We’ve been here less than a year, but I already feel confident stating that my health is better in Florida. I still have a few days when I don’t get out of bed. I still have a lot of days when I don’t leave the house. But I rarely need the medications I was using almost daily for joint pain in Colorado. And I actually have energy some days. I’ve gone kayaking a few times (and spent days afterward recovering). And I’ve started scuba diving again.

Having the ability to leave a location where I had very low quality of life and move to a location where I have much better quality of life – to me, that’s what financial security is all about.

Crew Dog, One Sick Vet

Whether you call it FIRE, financial independence, financial freedom, financial security, enough, early retirement, or whatever: working hard, spending less than we earned, learning about investments, and saving for the future enabled us to leverage our health privilege in our youth to provide for ourselves when we were older and had lost that health privilege.

People who are born with congenital conditions or who develop chronic illnesses or become disabled before they have these opportunities do not have this health privilege. I cannot speak to their experiences, although I can acknowledge them.

What I can say is this: If you are considering learning about personal finance, if you are interested in developing financial security, add to your possible list of motivations the consideration that health is possibly the greatest privilege of all, and it may not last as long as you had hoped it would. People like to think it couldn’t/wouldn’t happen to them – until it does.

At best, we are temporarily abled – eventually our capacities will degrade. Being fiscally fit will help you prepare for when you are no longer physically fit.

Crew Dog, One Sick Vet

Have you had setbacks on your road to financial security? Have you made plans and then been thrown a curveball? Have you never had health privilege? How have you adapted? We’d love to hear about your experiences in the comments.