It's time to stop doing forward rolls

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It's time to stop doing forward rolls
Photo: Elina Fairytale via Pexels
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In my defence, it is not something I do daily. Perhaps that is actually no defence at all, for had I been the type of 40-something that did indeed do forward rolls each day, I might not have felt something pop out between my rib cage as a result.

But I don't, and so I did, and that led to two minutes of agony for me as I pushed whatever it was back in and got myself up from off my son's train set, followed by two months of doctors searching for a non-existent hiatus hernia.

Discharging me, the consultant's suggestion that I might commit to physically gentler forms of showing off to my son was not uncalled for. But it was a wake-up call, nonetheless. 

The fact I have private medical insurance through the workplace was evidently a boon – no waiting around, no being sent to hospitals several train journeys away, and no bills to hit my own back pocket (which I can still reach without physical injury).

Women really, really do need to protect their income and their family's lifestyle.

In truth, I have relied, for the past decade and more, on the workplace insurance benefits offered by the Financial Times. There's an excellent PMI plan with cover for in-patient and day-patient consultations, scans and medical procedures, up to £2,000 a year.

It also provides £100 back for every night you have to stay in hospital unexpectedly, like the time I got shingles during my first week of pregnancy.

This, by the way, was really not fun, especially as it was my first positive pregnancy result after four rounds of very expensive IVF, so being hooked to a drip on the infectious diseases ward at St George's wasn't exactly great for my mental wellbeing, even if it was excellent care for my physical wellbeing.

Back to the PMI plan. Thanks to this I was able to confirm that no, I do not have a hernia; I am merely too old and unfit to be forward rolling.

There's also the 14 times death-in-service payout at the FT. Yes, that's right, 14 times. This means I've also not worried about life insurance, because my husband who also works for the FT gets the same deal. This is why I usually ask him to go onto the roof to fix the aerial or to remove the moss from the tiles. 

It is a given that, were either of us to leave the FT before we shuffle (or fall from a height) off this mortal coil, we would need to provide our own medical cover and life insurance.

And, at our age – and with my propensity for ill-advised derring-do – this would not be cheap, but we know it would be essential.

The gap

This brings me onto the gap in this protection plan: income protection. It had been something I had considered, honestly, long before the boy child came yelling out of my sun roof in 2018.

I had considered it, briefly, when I was single and living in my own little flat. It wasn't that mortality was far from my mind; I'm far too well-versed in romantic poetry to harbour unrealistic notions about living forever in perfect health. But I was, frankly, too lazy to haul myself around to it. I did, however, save.

I considered it when we got married and I started winning awards for writing about how important income protection is. I urged my husband to consider it too. He did not. I did not. 

I considered it when we started breaking into our cash savings to pay for IVF. Did I say 'breaking in'? I meant 'pillaging and raiding like a Viking on acid'.

But then I got pregnant and forgot about it amid all the sadness of losing one twin and concentrating on bringing the other one to term. 

Spouses who are the sole breadwinners should consider taking out income protection for their non-earning partners

And then I remembered it during the pandemic, when we were rebuilding our savings. 

What if I were to be too sick to work? Could my husband – even with his higher salary – afford the full mortgage payments, bills and the childcare? We'd have to put Charles full-time into nursery, not just three days a week. This would vastly increase the nursery fees.

The mortgage, bills and childcare alone would push George's outgoings to more than £3,000 a month and what would be left to live on?

Our savings would be depleted within two years – and that includes everything I have set aside for my son's education. We wouldn't just be facing tough times now but would be robbing our son of the future we have worked so hard to provide for him. 

There's no point setting him up with a Junior Isa (which I have) or a Junior Sipp (which I have) if we cannot pay anything into this. 

Women may feel they do not need to get income protection if they are on a lower salary, or work part-time, or even if they do all the childcare and keep the house full-time. But women really, really do need to protect their income and their family's lifestyle.

Spouses who are the sole breadwinners should consider taking out income protection for their non-earning partners to cover the cost of potential childcare, cleaning, gardening and so forth should the stay-at-home spouse be incapacitated. 

Sure, if I cark it, my husband gets the death-in-service. But if I became too sick or injured to work? Who cares for my family? Who cares for me? 

So I picked up the phone and called an adviser who is now working towards looking at income protection quotes for me. 

She came back to me a couple of weeks ago, with providers having asked her if they could hold fire while they waited for the results of my hernia investigation. I am happy, if embarrassed, to report I have been dishonourably discharged, with no hernia.

I now eagerly await the arrival of the various quotes – as long as they are not dependent on my ability to do living room gymnastics. 

Simoney Kyriakou is senior editor of FTAdviser