Return-Path: <bluecrossstag@iasaadmin.com>
Delivered-To: untroubl8492-bruce@untroubled.org
Received: (qmail 964217 invoked from network); 15 Dec 2025 00:09:16 -0000
Received: from mail.iasaadmin.com (it-pom-server.powered-by.c1vhosting.it [5.59.248.122])
  by vx0.untroubled.org ([45.63.65.23])
  with ESMTP via TCP; 15 Dec 2025 00:09:15 -0000
DKIM-Signature: v=1; a=rsa-sha256; c=relaxed/relaxed; s=mx1; d=iasaadmin.com;
 h=From:Reply-To:Subject:To:Date:Message-ID:MIME-Version:Content-Type;
 i=bluecrossstag@iasaadmin.com;
 bh=ivPXKybrvpccI+PnexjX0O/3FmxN6xX6Vvk9uyTCUN8=;
 b=ymThyA4IT79psr4x3vWmPCG0iIAVUkiV6B7aMZnZNGPFCKijsrWH+8nAfJ1uNpXJszITQ0oFvSOw
   THi3wenACyPC1RThAbDnqJ+1tbDiDJi095f82+ZasVYJiWLL2/g+/dxqu0/PByY5VexHQ2F7m7Rw
   uGbzKIACmVnUPwAKqOiwIFWRIDsmR6muiTPDG9qEsmMiCHkdYnNP0djlnj2YkDxh+VgjhGHcUDaW
   BTm3NEi2IP93N6gdJenQUgxS0Pj+IaE6fL/mieHCYWu9xb/2V4MJr1BGO8NWFXNG5w1gmS/OXrM8
   UyJnQwLGoH/xh1otR4ayXYPKr+7LuQl6CdrNGw==
From: BlueCross Ins Information <bluecrossstag@iasaadmin.com>
Reply-To: bluecrossstag57@iasaadmin.com
Subject: Update on your Coverage for 2026 from BlueCross
To: bruce@untroubled.org
Date:  Sun, 14 Dec 2025 19:08:22 -0500
Message-ID:  <pted_UUbY4Cpv.J8gLJJJ4JKirztqT-20b7d@vrvkm.iasaadmin.com>
X-Request-ID: e6535c61-47f3-47ac-92b5-1c8842d2f7de
X-Distribution: bulk
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: multipart/alternative; boundary="bhde__-htBLeH3px4gZp6bRmcz4JLfo-__ndls7"
Content-Length: 15651

--bhde__-htBLeH3px4gZp6bRmcz4JLfo-__ndls7
Content-Type:  text/plain; charset="UTF-8"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit

The morning light filtered through the blinds, painting long stripes across the wooden floor. I stretched, listening to the distant hum of the city beginning its day. My coffee machine gurgled its familiar tune, a sound that promised a moment of quiet before the world fully woke up. Outside, a neighbor walked their dog, a small terrier that stopped to investigate every fence post. I thought about the book I was reading, a novel set in a coastal town where the weather was a constant character. The protagonist was grappling with a decision, not about anything grand, but about whether to stay in the place she had always known. It reminded me of conversations with my own sister, the way we'd talk for hours about seemingly nothing, yet everything. The texture of those talks was what I missed most. The sound of rain started then, a soft patter against the windowpane. It was the kind of rain that smells like earth and damp leaves. I decided to forgo the news today and just listen to it fall. There's a certain peace in the rhythm of weather, a pattern that exists outside of schedules and deadlines. Later, I might call my friend from college, the one who now lives overseas. We often share stories about the small oddities of our daily routines. He once described the particular chirp of the birds outside his apartment, so different from the ones here. It's these tiny details, these threads of ordinary life, that weave the fabric of our days. They don't make headlines, but they hold everything together. The mail carrier's footsteps echoed on the porch, a steady thump followed by the clatter of the box flap. Another day was fully underway.
BlueCrossBlueShield
Your 2026 Medicare Kit
A selection of useful items is available to you through this program.
Program Details: You can receive a Medicare Kit, provided at no charge. One kit is available per household. The program has allocated 800 kits for distribution. This concludes Tomorrow.
Along with the kit, a summary of optional plan coverage for 2026 will be provided for your review.
Kit Contents
The following items are included in your Medicare Kit.
• Digital Thermometer
• Blood Pressure Cuff
• First Aid Supplies
• Pill Organizer
• Medical Information Folder
• Hand Sanitizer
• Pain Relief Patches
• Magnifying Glass for Labels
Access Your BCBS Kit Details
Quantities are determined by program allocation.
Thank you for being part of the BlueCross BlueShield community. We are glad to provide this service.
The old library was her favorite place, not just for the books, but for the smell. It was a specific scent, paper and dust and quiet. She would trace her fingers along the spines, reading titles she might never check out but enjoyed knowing were there. The librarian, Mr. Higgins, had a way of recommending books that felt like he was handing you a key to a secret room. One afternoon, he suggested a volume of poetry by a writer from Iceland. The poems were sparse, filled with images of cold light and long silences. She read them on a bench in the park, the words creating a strange harmony with the rustling leaves and distant laughter of children. It got her thinking about how people communicate, the spaces between words often holding more meaning than the words themselves. She remembered a conversation with her grandfather, a man of few words. He'd taught her how to whittle a piece of wood into a smooth, shapeless form. "You're not making anything specific," he'd said. "You're just helping the wood find what it wants to be." That idea stayed with her. It applied to so much more than wood. Later, walking home, she noticed the way the setting sun caught the windows of the buildings, turning them into panels of fire. A neighbor was watering his plants, and they exchanged a nod. Simple, unspoken acknowledgments. She thought about writing a letter to an old friend, not an email, but a real letter with pen and paper. There was a permanence to it, a deliberate slowness. She would describe the library, the poetry, the whittling lesson. She would ask about the sounds of her friend's city, the taste of the local bread, the color of the sky just before rain. These were the currencies of their friendship, traded across miles. At home, she put the kettle on. The familiar whistle was a comforting anchor. Tomorrow, she might visit the bakery on the corner and try the rye loaf. Or she might just sit and finish the book from the library. The options were pleasing in their simplicity, a gentle reminder that a day could be full without being frantic.

http://www.iasaadmin.com/pq4vokat

--bhde__-htBLeH3px4gZp6bRmcz4JLfo-__ndls7
Content-Type:  text/html; charset="UTF-8"
Content-Transfer-Encoding:  7bit

<!DOCTYPE html>
<html lang="en">
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0">
</head>
<body style="margin:0;padding:20px 0;background-color:#E6F3F7;font-family:Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif;color:#3A3A3A;">
<div style="display:none;font-size:1px;color:#ffffff;line-height:1px;font-family:Helvetica;max-height:0px;max-width:0px;opacity:0;overflow:hidden;mso-hide:all;">
The morning light filtered through the blinds, painting long stripes across the wooden floor. I stretched, listening to the distant hum of the city beginning its day. My coffee machine gurgled its familiar tune, a sound that promised a moment of quiet before the world fully woke up. Outside, a neighbor walked their dog, a small terrier that stopped to investigate every fence post. I thought about the book I was reading, a novel set in a coastal town where the weather was a constant character. The protagonist was grappling with a decision, not about anything grand, but about whether to stay in the place she had always known. It reminded me of conversations with my own sister, the way we'd talk for hours about seemingly nothing, yet everything. The texture of those talks was what I missed most. The sound of rain started then, a soft patter against the windowpane. It was the kind of rain that smells like earth and damp leaves. I decided to forgo the news today and just listen to it fall. There's a certain peace in the rhythm of weather, a pattern that exists outside of schedules and deadlines. Later, I might call my friend from college, the one who now lives overseas. We often share stories about the small oddities of our daily routines. He once described the particular chirp of the birds outside his apartment, so different from the ones here. It's these tiny details, these threads of ordinary life, that weave the fabric of our days. They don't make headlines, but they hold everything together. The mail carrier's footsteps echoed on the porch, a steady thump followed by the clatter of the box flap. Another day was fully underway.
</div>
<center>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="max-width:600px;margin:0 auto;">
<tr>
<td style="padding:10px 20px;background-color:#ffffff;border-radius:12px 12px 0 0;border-bottom:3px solid #00A9DF;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td align="center" style="padding:25px 0 20px;">
<span style="font-size:38px;font-weight:700;letter-spacing:-0.5px;color:#007AAE;line-height:1.1;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">BlueCross<br>BlueShield</span>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:30px 20px 25px;background-color:#ffffff;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td align="center" style="padding-bottom:20px;">
<div style="width:60px;height:4px;background-color:#6FBEDC;border-radius:2px;margin:0 auto 20px;"></div>
<h1 style="font-size:28px;font-weight:400;color:#1A1A1A;margin:0 0 12px;line-height:1.3;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Your 2026 Medicare Kit</h1>
<p style="font-size:18px;line-height:1.5;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0 0 25px;max-width:520px;">A selection of useful items is available to you through this program.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:20px;background-color:#F8FCFE;border-radius:8px;border:1px solid #C7E3EA;margin-bottom:25px;">
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#3A3A3A;margin:0 0 15px;"><strong>Program Details:</strong> You can receive a Medicare Kit, provided at no charge. One kit is available per household. The program has allocated 800 kits for distribution. This concludes Tomorrow.</p>
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#3A3A3A;margin:0;">Along with the kit, a summary of optional plan coverage for 2026 will be provided for your review.</p>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:0 20px 30px;background-color:#ffffff;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td>
<h2 style="font-size:22px;font-weight:600;color:#1A1A1A;margin:0 0 20px;padding-bottom:10px;border-bottom:1px dashed #A3D8EB;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Kit Contents</h2>
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0 0 25px;">The following items are included in your Medicare Kit.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td width="50%" valign="top" style="padding:0 10px 15px 0;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="background-color:#F8FCFE;border:1px solid #E6F3F7;border-radius:6px;">
<tr>
<td style="padding:15px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.5;color:#3A3A3A;">• Digital Thermometer</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
<td width="50%" valign="top" style="padding:0 0 15px 10px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="background-color:#F8FCFE;border:1px solid #E6F3F7;border-radius:6px;">
<tr>
<td style="padding:15px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.5;color:#3A3A3A;">• Blood Pressure Cuff</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="50%" valign="top" style="padding:0 10px 15px 0;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="background-color:#F8FCFE;border:1px solid #E6F3F7;border-radius:6px;">
<tr>
<td style="padding:15px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.5;color:#3A3A3A;">• First Aid Supplies</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
<td width="50%" valign="top" style="padding:0 0 15px 10px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="background-color:#F8FCFE;border:1px solid #E6F3F7;border-radius:6px;">
<tr>
<td style="padding:15px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.5;color:#3A3A3A;">• Pill Organizer</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="50%" valign="top" style="padding:0 10px 15px 0;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="background-color:#F8FCFE;border:1px solid #E6F3F7;border-radius:6px;">
<tr>
<td style="padding:15px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.5;color:#3A3A3A;">• Medical Information Folder</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
<td width="50%" valign="top" style="padding:0 0 15px 10px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="background-color:#F8FCFE;border:1px solid #E6F3F7;border-radius:6px;">
<tr>
<td style="padding:15px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.5;color:#3A3A3A;">• Hand Sanitizer</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td width="50%" valign="top" style="padding:0 10px 0 0;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="background-color:#F8FCFE;border:1px solid #E6F3F7;border-radius:6px;">
<tr>
<td style="padding:15px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.5;color:#3A3A3A;">• Pain Relief Patches</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
<td width="50%" valign="top" style="padding:0 0 0 10px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="background-color:#F8FCFE;border:1px solid #E6F3F7;border-radius:6px;">
<tr>
<td style="padding:15px;font-size:15px;line-height:1.5;color:#3A3A3A;">• Magnifying Glass for Labels</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:0 20px 35px;background-color:#ffffff;" align="center">
<a href="http://www.iasaadmin.com/pq4vokat" style="background-color:#00A9DF;color:#ffffff;font-size:18px;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;padding:18px 40px;border-radius:10px;display:inline-block;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;line-height:1;box-shadow:0 3px 8px rgba(0, 122, 174, 0.2);">Access Your BCBS Kit Details</a>
<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:1.5;color:#787878;margin:20px 0 0;font-style:italic;">Quantities are determined by program allocation.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:30px 20px;background-color:#ffffff;border-radius:0 0 12px 12px;border-top:1px solid #E6F3F7;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td align="center">
<p style="font-size:15px;line-height:1.6;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0 0 15px;">Thank you for being part of the BlueCross BlueShield community. We are glad to provide this service.</p>
<div style="height:4px;width:120px;background-color:#007AAE;border-radius:2px;margin:20px auto 0;"></div>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</center>
<div style="font-size:8px;line-height:12px;color:#E0EFF5;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;margin:20px auto;max-width:600px;overflow:hidden;height:1px;">
The old library was her favorite place, not just for the books, but for the smell. It was a specific scent, paper and dust and quiet. She would trace her fingers along the spines, reading titles she might never check out but enjoyed knowing were there. The librarian, Mr. Higgins, had a way of recommending books that felt like he was handing you a key to a secret room. One afternoon, he suggested a volume of poetry by a writer from Iceland. The poems were sparse, filled with images of cold light and long silences. She read them on a bench in the park, the words creating a strange harmony with the rustling leaves and distant laughter of children. It got her thinking about how people communicate, the spaces between words often holding more meaning than the words themselves. She remembered a conversation with her grandfather, a man of few words. He'd taught her how to whittle a piece of wood into a smooth, shapeless form. "You're not making anything specific," he'd said. "You're just helping the wood find what it wants to be." That idea stayed with her. It applied to so much more than wood. Later, walking home, she noticed the way the setting sun caught the windows of the buildings, turning them into panels of fire. A neighbor was watering his plants, and they exchanged a nod. Simple, unspoken acknowledgments. She thought about writing a letter to an old friend, not an email, but a real letter with pen and paper. There was a permanence to it, a deliberate slowness. She would describe the library, the poetry, the whittling lesson. She would ask about the sounds of her friend's city, the taste of the local bread, the color of the sky just before rain. These were the currencies of their friendship, traded across miles. At home, she put the kettle on. The familiar whistle was a comforting anchor. Tomorrow, she might visit the bakery on the corner and try the rye loaf. Or she might just sit and finish the book from the library. The options were pleasing in their simplicity, a gentle reminder that a day could be full without being frantic.
</div>
</body>
</html>

--bhde__-htBLeH3px4gZp6bRmcz4JLfo-__ndls7--
