by Nick Jacobs

The Baby Boomers are not about to be plutoed.* (Plutoed, according to BuzzWhack.com means to be unceremoniously dumped or relegated to a lower position without an adequate reason or explanation.)

We Boomers have paid our dues and have spent a lifetime changing the world in many ways. Unlike the way our parents and their parents were treated by the health care system, we are not about to be ignored, uninformed or pushed aside by our hospitals and our physician's offices. We will not be treated as sheep or second class citizens, and we will not leave our dignity at the door. So, be prepared.

Remember, we are the generation that created free love, enormous credit card debt, the dot.com boom and bust, the Internet. (Sorry, that was Al Gore, but wait, he is a Baby Boomer!) We've had thousands of public schools built for us, seen our colleges expanded to accommodate us, and we've watched this country adapt to our needy, greedy ways for the last 50+ years. With this group of former, wild eyed, hippies and now conservative investors, it ain't over till it's over. We don't plan to go out quietly, easily or soon.

Look at the impact we have had on the stock market, the real estate market, the clothing industry. In fact, I specifically remember the day, at age 33, when I arrived home in a new pair of jeans that were supposedly one inch smaller in the waist than I was. It was a certifiably, braggable moment until my spouse pushed the Newsweek across the counter to me. Featured on the front cover was a picture of a person in blue jeans, and the caption was "Levi's changes their jeans to pear shaped to fit the growing Baby Boomers."

It's a given that we are not going to accept hospital gowns that expose our us. We are not going to wait for the convenience of the radiologist who decides to work out and take an extra long lunch in he middle of the day or the pathologist who just doesn't want to work on the weekend. We are not going to accept the medical center that puts us in a waiting room and never explains why they are so late meeting our needs. We are not going to embrace your green jello and high fat menus. We are not going to allow you to expose us to 10,000 unquestioned radiological procedures, the equivalent to living on the Sun for a year or two.

We are, however, going to need thousands of plastic surgeons, personal health coaches and medical liaisons to help us navigate the system, and, eventually, we'll want gerontologists who understand the nuances of the aging body.

My first heart cath was back in 1997. When I was taken back to my room, the dietary staff brought me bacon and eggs and a packet of instant Sanka. My first question was, "Who paid for the bacon and eggs, the heart surgeon who was grooming me for his next case?" Then my next question was "When can you bring me a decaf latte with soy milk?"

We are not really interested in excuses for nasty employees, dirty rooms and hallways, limited visiting hours, lack of wireless and cell phone access, poor signage, no parking, limited availability to massage therapists, burned toast. We are especially bored with completely disconnected medical care where the docs don't communicate with each other, or medical records that aren't available or on time. We will ask about your infection rate. We will ask why your emergency room doesn't provide access to relatives, and why your only 100% commitment to excellence is typically your financial department.

Oh, yeah, and who ever decided that homes for the aging should consist primarily of a semi-private bedroom and hallway for each patient? There is no way we're going to sit in the hall and be wheeled into the cafeteria to hear Lawrence Welk. We will demand video I-pods with all of the albums of The Rolling Stones and probably some legalized marijuana to alleviate eye pressure for glaucoma.

So, fasten the seat belt of your fancy, leather, boardroom chairs. The Boomers are coming. We're used to being catered to, pampered, respected and nurtured. We are not going to be plutoed, and, if you don't get it, we'll make sure that we give the trillions of dollars that we have to pass along to those who do. Love ya, man.