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<\/p>\nThe envelope was thicker than the usual junk that arrived with Mom\u2019s name misspelled. A welcome kit. A membership card already printed. A provider directory for a network I had never heard of. Effective the first.<\/p>\n
I stood at her kitchen counter with the kettle clicking off behind me and felt the floor tilt one degree.<\/p>\n
Mom is seventy-four. She has original Medicare. She has a supplement I pay each month so that a specialist visit does not become a negotiation. She likes her cardiologist. She likes the pharmacist who already knows the bottles. She was happy. That word is small and I had been guarding it.<\/p>\n
I called the number on the kit. A calm voice pulled up a file and said Eleanor Voss had enrolled by telephone and passed recorded verification. I asked to hear the recording. The voice said they could not play it unless I had power of attorney on file.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am her daughter. I pay the supplement. I take her to every appointment.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe still need POA.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom was at the table peeling an orange, concentrating as if the peel were a task that might escape. I sat down, put the phone on speaker, and called the plan back.<\/p>\n
A different agent asked her to confirm a phone number. She listened, nodded, and said yes, that was hers.<\/p>\n
It was not the house phone that had hung on the wall since my father was alive. It was Marcus\u2019s cell.<\/p>\n
I asked for the commission agent\u2019s name. After a hold that played a jingle about choice, they gave it to me.<\/p>\n
Gregory Pell.<\/p>\n
Last fall Marcus had brought a folder to Sunday dinner and asked me to \u201cjust sign as a witness.\u201d A whole-life policy. I had signed because he had that urgent look he used when he did not want questions, and because Mom had been in the other room warming rolls. I had not read past the signature line. I had told myself witnessing was not the same as agreeing.<\/p>\n
The name on the welcome kit and the name on that folder were the same man.<\/p>\n
Mom finished the orange and asked if the mail had been good mail or bad mail.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe are going to find out,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
She nodded, trusting the tone more than the sentence. I stacked the welcome kit beside her supplement card, two versions of the same life that could not both be true on the first of the month.<\/p>\n
Marcus did not answer when I called. I left a message that did not sound like a sister. It sounded like a person holding a card that should not exist.<\/p>\n
Then I sat with Mom and asked the only question that mattered.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you call someone and ask to change your Medicare?\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at the window. \u201cA man was kind. Marcus said it would save you money.\u201d<\/p>\n
Save me money. The supplement I paid so she would not have to learn a network. The kindness had a commission. The phone number had a brother attached to it.<\/p>\n
I put the kettle back on because my hands needed an ordinary job. The first of the month was twelve days away. Twelve days to keep her doctors from becoming out-of-network names in a directory I did not recognize.<\/p>\n
The state health-insurance counselor, a woman named Ruth at the local SHIP office, answered on the second try. I told her the kit, the recording wall, the cell number, the agent\u2019s name, the whole-life folder from fall.<\/p>\n
She did not gasp. She had a voice like a person who had heard this shape of story before.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo not use the new card,\u201d she said. \u201cKeep her on current coverage until you know the enrollment is real and whether it can be undone. Get the POA if she still has capacity to sign one, or start the process if she does not. Ask Medicare about a special enrollment path when a plan change was not understood. Write down every date.\u201d<\/p>\n
I wrote. My handwriting looked like someone else\u2019s.<\/p>\n
Mom\u2019s regular doctor\u2019s office confirmed what I already feared. If she moved onto that Advantage network, two of her three specialists were not listed. The cardiologist she trusted would become a request, a referral, a maybe.<\/p>\n
Marcus called back while I was still in the parking lot.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou don\u2019t need to make this a federal case,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cThey mailed her a card. Her coverage changes on the first. The number on the file is your phone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGreg explained it. Zero premium. She keeps her doctors.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe does not keep her doctors. I checked.\u201d<\/p>\n
A pause. Traffic on his end.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou always assume I\u2019m trying to hurt her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI assume you asked me to witness a policy I did not read, and now the same man is on her Medicare file. That is not an assumption. That is a name.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe wanted to help with costs. You\u2019re stretched. I was trying to be useful.\u201d<\/p>\n
Useful. The word sat in the car like a third passenger.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am coming over,\u201d I said. \u201cDo not call the plan. Do not call Greg. Do not coach her.\u201d<\/p>\n
He started to argue. I hung up because coaching was already the problem.<\/p>\n
At Mom\u2019s house I found the welcome kit where I had left it and a second envelope I had missed, thinner, from a life-insurance company. I did not open it in front of her. I asked her to tell me, slowly, what the kind man had said.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe said the blue card was old-fashioned. He said a new card would be easier. Marcus held the phone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you know your doctors might not be in the new book?\u201d<\/p>\n
She frowned, searching. \u201cMarcus said you were tired of paying.\u201d<\/p>\n
I had never said I was tired of paying. I had said, once, in a weak moment after a dental bill of my own, that the month was tight. Tight is not a request to enroll your mother in a plan she cannot map.<\/p>\n
That evening I called the estate lawyer who had done Dad\u2019s will. She said a springing POA would not help us in twelve days. We needed a current document Mom could still understand, signed with the right witnesses, or we would spend the first of the month arguing with a call center while a network locked in.<\/p>\n
Mom could still name the president from the year Dad died and could not name the plan in the kit. The lawyer said we should try the next morning, early, when she was sharpest.<\/p>\n
I slept on the couch at Mom\u2019s so no one could arrive with another folder. Marcus texted at eleven.<\/p>\n
You\u2019re turning a favor into a crime.<\/p>\n
I did not answer. Favor and crime were not the only two words in the language. There was also the word recording, which I still had not heard.<\/p>\n
In the morning Mom signed a durable power of attorney for health care and a separate one for benefits and insurance decisions. The lawyer brought a notary. Mom asked twice whether this meant I was putting her away. I said no. I said it meant I could hear a recording that already used her name.<\/p>\n
She signed. The letters were hers, slower than they used to be, still hers.<\/p>\n
I faxed the documents to the plan and to the number Ruth had given me. Then I sat on hold for thirty-eight minutes until a supervisor agreed to schedule a playback.<\/p>\n
They would not email the file. They would play it on a recorded line at two o\u2019clock.<\/p>\n
At two I sat with Mom and the lawyer on speaker. The recording was six minutes long.<\/p>\n
A man\u2019s voice, warm, unhurried. Gregory Pell. He asked if he was speaking with Eleanor Voss. A yes. He asked if she wanted to enroll in the Advantage plan he had described. A hesitation. Marcus\u2019s voice in the background, low: It\u2019s the one we talked about, Ma. It\u2019s easier. She said all right. He asked her to confirm the phone number. She read Marcus\u2019s number off a paper, stumbling once. He walked her through yes and I understand. He did not mention the cardiologist. He did not mention that a supplement and Advantage were not a pair you stacked. He thanked her for her time. He used the word congratulations.<\/p>\n
When it ended Mom was very still.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat does not sound like a choice,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
The lawyer wrote the time stamps. Ruth, when I called her back, said those time stamps mattered.<\/p>\n
Marcus arrived at four, uninvited, with the look of a man who had already spoken to Greg.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou had no right to pull a recording.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI had a POA and a kit that was going to change her doctors.\u201d<\/p>\n
He stood in Dad\u2019s old spot by the refrigerator. \u201cThe policy last fall was to help with final expenses. You signed. You were there.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI signed as a witness because you put a pen in my hand and said it was nothing. Who is the beneficiary?\u201d<\/p>\n
His mouth flattened.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMe. And you, contingent. That\u2019s normal.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she understand she was buying a product from the same man who just moved her off the coverage I pay for?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe understood she was being taken care of.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom looked between us like a child watching weather.<\/p>\n
\u201cI want my old cards,\u201d she said. \u201cThe ones that work at the red building.\u201d<\/p>\n
The red building was cardiology. I told her we were going to ask for those cards to stay in force. Marcus said I was going to get Greg fired for doing his job. I said Greg\u2019s job was not to use a son\u2019s phone as a mother\u2019s identity.<\/p>\n
He left. The house settled. Mom asked if I was angry with her.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. I am angry near you. That is different.\u201d<\/p>\n
She accepted that the way she accepted most distinctions she could not fix.<\/p>\n
I opened the second envelope. A notice that the whole-life policy was in force, premium drafted from an account I did not recognize. I photographed every page. I did not yet know whether the draft was from her small checking account or from something Marcus had opened. I knew only that last fall\u2019s nothing had a monthly cost.<\/p>\n
Ruth walked me through the complaint paths in language that stayed on the right side of official. Contact Medicare about an enrollment she did not understand. Contact the state insurance department about the agent. Keep copies. Do not threaten. Do not invent.<\/p>\n
I filed what she told me to file. I wrote only what I had heard on the recording and seen in the kit. Dates. Names. The mismatch of phone numbers. The specialists missing from the directory.<\/p>\n
The plan sent a letter saying the enrollment was valid because she had answered yes. Denise\u2014no, the lawyer, Helen Cho\u2014said validity on a call center script and validity in a woman\u2019s actual life were not always friends. She drafted a statement from Mom, short, in Mom\u2019s words, that she had thought she was helping her daughter with a bill and had not meant to leave her doctors.<\/p>\n
Mom signed it on a good morning.<\/p>\n
Gregory Pell called my cell from a number I did not pick up. He left a voicemail that used the words misunderstanding and family decision. I saved it and did not return it. Helen said all future contact went through her or through the agencies.<\/p>\n
Marcus\u2019s wife, Jenna, texted me after dark.<\/p>\n
He thinks you\u2019re trying to take over. I\u2019m not sure he\u2019s wrong about the policy. I am sure he was wrong about the Medicare. I didn\u2019t know about the welcome kit.<\/p>\n
I thanked her for the second sentence. I did not deputize her. Marriages have their own ledgers.<\/p>\n
At the cardiology office I asked them to note in the chart that we were contesting a plan change and to call me if any new card appeared at check-in. The receptionist put a sticky note on the monitor as if a sticky note could hold back a network. I took a picture of that too.<\/p>\n
Mom and I sat on her porch with tea. She said, \u201cYour father would have hated a stranger on the phone.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDad would have hated a lot of this.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMarcus wants to be the man of the house. There is no house left to be the man of. Only my little rooms.\u201d<\/p>\n
The little rooms were the kitchen, the bedroom, the porch. They were enough. They did not need a commission.<\/p>\n
I asked her, once more, whether she wanted the Advantage plan if it truly cost her nothing and kept every doctor.<\/p>\n
She shook her head before I finished.<\/p>\n
\u201cI want the red building. I want you to keep paying the other card if you can. I will eat less toast.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou will eat the toast. The supplement stays until we know where we stand.\u201d<\/p>\n
She smiled, small. \u201cYou always were the stubborn one.\u201d<\/p>\n
Stubborn was a compliment that afternoon.<\/p>\n
The first of the month arrived before any letter of correction. I woke at five and sat with both of her cards in my hand like a person guarding a border.<\/p>\n
At nine a clerk from the new plan called Mom\u2019s house. I answered. They wanted to welcome her and schedule a health risk assessment. I said the enrollment was under review and she would not complete an assessment. The clerk put me on hold. The supervisor recited a script. I recited the complaint numbers. We ended in a draw that still left me watching the mailbox.<\/p>\n
Her pharmacist flagged a new billing path that afternoon and called me. I drove over with the original cards and stood at the counter until they processed the prescriptions the old way. The pharmacist, who had known Mom for eleven years, said, \u201cPeople come in with these kits and do not know they signed.\u201d I said I knew.<\/p>\n
Marcus showed up at the pharmacy parking lot as if he had been told I was there. Jenna was in the car, not getting out.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re humiliating me with agencies,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI am keeping her in the red building.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGreg can write a statement that she understood.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGreg\u2019s statement is the problem.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at the bag of pills in my hand. For a second the brother who used to carry the other end of Dad\u2019s couch was there. Then he said, \u201cIf they sanction him, that policy may wobble. That policy is the only thing I have set up for later.\u201d<\/p>\n
Later. The word that turns a parent into a date.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen you should have set it up in a room where she understood it, with a lawyer she already knew, not with a man who needed a witness in a hurry.\u201d<\/p>\n
He left. Jenna lifted her hand through the windshield, a small apology that did not belong to her.<\/p>\n
Helen called. The state had opened a file on the agent. Medicare had logged the enrollment dispute. Nothing would be fast. Something might still happen before her next specialist visit if we kept the paper moving.<\/p>\n
I took Mom to lunch because the day needed an ordinary plate. She ordered soup and ate it with concentration. She asked whether Marcus was in trouble.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe is in a conversation he did not want,\u201d I said. \u201cThat is not the same as the end of him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood. I do not want the end of him. I want the end of the kit.\u201d<\/p>\n
The kit was still on her counter. I put it in a folder labeled with the date. Evidence and junk can look identical until someone writes on the tab.<\/p>\n
A week later a letter came from the plan. They would allow a retraction of the enrollment based on a review of the call and the complaint. Coverage would remain original Medicare. The welcome kit was to be discarded. A separate letter would confirm.<\/p>\n
I read it twice at the kitchen table. Mom watched my face for weather.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe red building stays,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
She closed her eyes and nodded, a prayer without language.<\/p>\n
The supplement company, when I called, had never seen a cancellation. The draft for my payment was still scheduled. I let myself sit with that small mercy.<\/p>\n
The whole-life policy was a different animal. Helen read the pages I had photographed. The owner was Mom. The payor appeared to be an account Marcus controlled. The beneficiary was Marcus, contingent me. The face amount was not enormous. The suitability of selling it to a woman on a fixed income, in the same season as an Advantage enrollment, was the question the state could ask. Whether we canceled it was Mom\u2019s question, on a clear morning, with no one holding the phone for her.<\/p>\n
We sat with her and the lawyer. Helen explained, in short sentences, what the policy did and what it cost. Mom listened. She asked if Dad had wanted this. Helen said the papers did not say. Mom asked if Marcus would be angry. I said yes. She asked if she would be unprotected without it.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou have Social Security, Medicare, the supplement, a small savings, and a daughter who already pays a bill,\u201d Helen said. \u201cProtection and a product are not always the same.\u201d<\/p>\n
Mom said, \u201cStop the drafts. If something is left, let it sit until I understand it better. I do not understand it now.\u201d<\/p>\n
Helen wrote the instruction. I witnessed it properly this time, reading every line.<\/p>\n
Marcus received the notice and did not speak to me for eleven days. Jenna sent a message that he was going to the state to defend Greg. I wished him a short meeting.<\/p>\n
Mom\u2019s cardiologist appointment happened on a Wednesday with the old card. No one asked for a new one. I sat in the waiting room and felt the tightness in my shoulders loosen one notch, not more. Loosening all the way would have been superstition.<\/p>\n
Ruth called to say the agent file was proceeding without me needing to do anything clever. I thanked her. Clever was how this had started. Ordinary was how I wanted it to end.<\/p>\n
Greg\u2019s agency sent a letter on cream paper. They regretted any confusion. They offered a supervisor call. Helen took the call. I sat in her office and listened. The supervisor used quality and training and isolated incident. Helen used recording, phone number, and missing network disclosure. The call ended with a promise to cooperate with the state. Promises of that kind are weather. You note them and you still carry an umbrella.<\/p>\n
Marcus asked to see Mom alone. I said no for a week and then yes for one hour if I remained in the house. He sat at the table and spoke to his hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought zero premium was the only number that mattered,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Mom said, \u201cThe red building is the number that matters.\u201d<\/p>\n
He nodded, late.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wanted there to be something in my name that looked like I had taken care of things. Dad died and there was nothing to hold.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere was me,\u201d Mom said, not unkind. \u201cI am not a policy.\u201d<\/p>\n
He cried, briefly, the way men in our family cry when they have run out of argument. I did not join him at the table. I ran water in the sink so he could have the sound of an exit.<\/p>\n
After he left Mom said, \u201cHe is still my son.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are still the one who reads the mail.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know that too.\u201d<\/p>\n
We watched a cooking show with the sound low. A woman on television made a pie crust as if crust were the crisis of the day. Mom fell asleep in the chair. I covered her knees. The welcome kit stayed in the dated folder. The old cards stayed in her purse.<\/p>\n
The state sent a notice that the agent would face administrative review. I did not attend. I sent the recording notes and the signed statement and then I went to work and came home and took Mom to the pharmacy. The review would end however it ended. My job was the red building and the supplement and the mail.<\/p>\n
Jenna dropped off a casserole with a note. He knows he scared her. He does not know how to say it without defending himself. I wrote back thank you. I put the casserole in the oven. Feeding people is not the same as closing a file. It is only not making the day harder.<\/p>\n
Winter thinned. Mom stayed on original Medicare. The supplement drafted from my account as it always had. The Advantage card went into the shredder at Helen\u2019s office, not because shredding was theater, but because I did not want it in the house to confuse a future morning.<\/p>\n
The whole-life drafts stopped. A surrender form sat in Helen\u2019s file until Mom decided, on another clear day, that she did not want the product. The cash value was small. It went into her savings. Marcus did not ask for it. That was the closest thing to an apology that had a dollar attached.<\/p>\n
He began coming on Sundays again, shorter visits, no folders. He brought bakery bread. Mom inspected the bread as if it might contain a plan. After a month she stopped inspecting.<\/p>\n
I asked him, once, on the porch, whether Greg had approached him about Mom or whether he had offered Mom to Greg.<\/p>\n
He was quiet long enough that I thought he would lie.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe asked if anyone in the family was on Medicare. I said my mother. He said he could save her money and save you money. I liked being the son who saved everyone money.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNext time someone saves us money, we read the directory first.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThere will not be a next time with me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I wanted to believe him. Belief, in families, is a practice, not a certificate.<\/p>\n
The cardiologist said Mom\u2019s numbers were steady. She squeezed my hand in the exam room as if the steady numbers were something we had built with paper.<\/p>\n
Helen closed her active file with a letter summarizing what had been undone. I paid her invoice and did not resent it. The invoice was smaller than a year of wrong-network bills would have been.<\/p>\n
Ruth sent a pamphlet about how to handle unexpected plan kits. I put it in the dated folder. I did not need the pamphlet to remember. I kept it for the version of me that might one day be tired enough to sign as a witness again.<\/p>\n
I did not sign as a witness again.<\/p>\n
In the spring Mom asked to go to the river overlook where Dad used to park. We sat in the car with the windows down. She said she had been frightened the night of the recording, not of the man\u2019s voice, but of how easy it had been to say yes when Marcus said it was easier.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wanted to be easy for you,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou are not a bill I am trying to reduce.\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded, eyes on the water. \u201cTell your brother that when he can hear it.\u201d<\/p>\n
I told him that Sunday. He did not answer with a speech. He said, \u201cI hear it.\u201d Then he asked Mom whether she wanted more bread. She did. Bread was a language we still shared.<\/p>\n
The administrative review ended with a penalty I learned about in a one-page notice. Greg was still in the world. He was less free to treat our kitchen as a sales floor. That was the available justice. I did not hunt for more.<\/p>\n
Mom updated her contacts at every office: Rachel Voss, daughter, POA, mail first. She practiced saying it. The practice made her feel less like a person who could be enrolled by a warm voice and a son\u2019s cell phone.<\/p>\n
I kept paying the supplement. The month was sometimes tight. Tight remained a budget word, not an enrollment word.<\/p>\n
On her seventy-fifth birthday we ate cake from the bakery Marcus had started using as a peace offering. Jenna came. No one mentioned kits. Mom wore a sweater Dad would have recognized. I took a picture of her hands, not the cake. The hands that had signed the POA and the surrender and the statement. The hands that still peeled oranges as if the peel might escape.<\/p>\n
After they left she said, \u201cThe mail can be good mail again.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWe will still open it together.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood. You read faster.\u201d<\/p>\n
I read faster. That was the whole skill the year had required, besides the willingness to sit on hold and the refusal to treat a welcome kit as a welcome.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The story does not end with a courtroom or a ruined brother. It ends with a kitchen table that still gets junk mail, and a woman of seventy-five who checks the return address before she is pleased.<\/p>\n
She remains on original Medicare. I still pay the supplement. The red building still knows her name. The directory I never heard of never became her map.<\/p>\n
Marcus is still my brother. He does not bring folders. He brings bread and, once in a while, a question he should have asked before last fall. I answer the question. I do not give him back the version of me who signed without reading. That version had to retire.<\/p>\n
Gregory Pell is a name in a dated folder. The recording exists in an agency file I do not visit. I do not need to hear it again. I heard it once with my mother in the room, and once was the education.<\/p>\n
If another kit arrives, we will open it together, and we will not confirm a phone number that does not hang on her wall. That is the rule. It is not written on a lawyer\u2019s letterhead. It is written in the way she looks at me when the kettle clicks off, waiting to see whether the mail is good.<\/p>\n
I did not choose the plan. She did not choose it either, not in any sense that should survive a recording. What we chose, after, was slower: papers that matched her doctors, a son who had to learn a different way to be useful, a daughter who stopped treating a witness line as a courtesy.<\/p>\n
The welcome kit is gone. The old cards remain. The first of the month comes and goes without a new network. On Sundays there is bread. On Thursdays there is the pharmacy that already knows the bottles.<\/p>\n
That is the ending I can live inside. Not a triumph over a brother. A correction of a file. A mother who kept the red building. A family that still sits at the same table, opening the envelope before anyone says it is nothing.<\/p>\n
Nothing, I have learned, is the most expensive word in a welcome kit.<\/p>\n
We do not use it anymore.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Medicare Advantage sent a welcome kit for a plan I never chose. Mom is seventy-four and stable on original Medicare plus the supplement I pay for. They said she enrolled … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3456,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[68,1],"tags":[6377,6383,6381,1223,706,6378,5181,6372,6374,4812,1957,6385,6376,6384,6386,6382,6375,6373,6379,6380],"class_list":["post-3455","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family-drama","category-full-story","tag-brothers-phone","tag-complaint-process","tag-coverage-change","tag-elderly-mother","tag-family-trust","tag-insurance-agent","tag-kitchen-table","tag-medicare-advantage","tag-original-medicare","tag-power-of-attorney","tag-quiet-ending","tag-reading-the-mail","tag-recorded-enrollment","tag-red-building","tag-saying-no-to-nothing","tag-specialist-network","tag-supplement","tag-welcome-kit","tag-whole-life-policy","tag-witness-signature"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/theviralstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3455","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/theviralstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/theviralstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theviralstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theviralstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3455"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/theviralstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3455\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3457,"href":"https:\/\/theviralstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3455\/revisions\/3457"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theviralstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/3456"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/theviralstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3455"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theviralstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3455"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/theviralstory.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3455"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}