My friend and fellow curmudgeon, snoringKatZ, wrote a lovely post recently, describing a sad scene in her local Walgreen’s. An elderly lady was trying to get her prescriptions filled. The pharmacist patiently explained that, alas, her insurance would not cover the most expensive of her meds; the only way that medication would be covered is mail-order directly from the prescription insurance provider.

I have Aetna for my health insurance, and I have no complaints about them. When I had my little Fournier’s month, they paid for everything. Maybe I had a few copays, but I paid $200 or so. They paid the hundreds of thousands. God bless them

However, we have a separate prescription provider. If you are on a “maintenance” medication–like my antistabbyfeet pills–they cover them with a decent copay…for two months. After that, the copay triples. Unless you use their convenient mail-order service, wherefrom you can get a three-month supply dirt cheap. Woo-hoo!

So, last Monday (11 days ago), I had my monthly confab with my doctor. Yay. I like my doctor. He e-mailed my prescription directly to the pharmacy provider.

So last night (Wednesday night), I took my last anti-stabbyfeet pill. My three-month supply is still not here.

Oh fuck no.

So, I had my Walgreen’s fax my doc’s office, who promptly confirmed it. And this afternoon, right before work started, I got a message that my meds were ready.

Well, my stabbyfeet got predictably stabby about 10pm. By 1am, I was cashed. I left work 2 hours early. Peanut and I chatted for awhile–she wanted to drive me, since I was twitchy and pale–then I went to Walgreen’s. Evie the cute pharmacist was there. We chatted for a bit. I passed over my $25 copay, and came home with my meds. Via mail-order, I will get a three-month supply for that same $25.

The problem is, I DON’T HAVE IT! I don’t care if it’s a three-decade supply for $25, if it isn’t in my possession, I can’t put them in my mouth and swallow them, at which point they suppress my neuropathy pain.

It’s the same principle as making a fruit salad from my Farm Town grove bounty. I have beautiful stands of cherry, peach, apple, mango, banana, and snozzberry trees, all of them ripe and perfect, but I can’t eat them, because they aren’t real.

Same as this spectacular cache of antistabbyfeet meds, my fruit groves don’t effectively exist.

It’s messed up. As the adage goes, a neurontin in the bloodstream is worth 270 in some distant warehouse.

Happy Friday the 13th, and to all you friggatriskaidekaphobics…

BOO! 😉


9 Responses to “Snarl”

  1. Happy Black Friday!

    Boo to stoopid medical crap.

  2. My wife goes through this crap all the time. Doctor’s office sends paperwork, they lose it. They say prescriptions are ready, go to pick them up, wait two hours. I’ll just sit here and think some not so nice thoughts about Insurance companies and poor customer service at the drug store. May they all get shingles and have to take the less effective generic medicine for it because it’s the only one accepted by their insurance plan.

    • tomzone Says:

      My Walgreen’s is just lovely. 24hr drive thru pharmacy, great staff, and by God they are fast. The insurance part is what fraks up the works, or so it seems.

      And your shingles/generic meds line? Among the century’s great curses thus far. 😀

  3. Oh tom! How horrible!

    My parents belong to an HMO, which has worked out great for them. (Given that they pay $750 a month for coverage, it had better work. ) I was thinking of joining after the Obamacare law declared that we all had to buy health insurance coverage, but I discovered that their policy with the lowest monthly premium, the only one I can afford, doesn’t cover squat—no meds, no well-checkups. It’s basically for hospitalization and catastrophic illness, and even then I’d have to pay $5000 out of pocket. So I’m still running around uninsured. (Ssssh, don’t tell!)

    Then there was the time my husband was refused care when he was dying. I won’t go into that, but I wished back then that all insurance executives came down with an incurable chronic illness and they had to go through what the rest of us go through. I know they won’t have to—anyone who makes over $250,000 a year doesn’t have to wait in line for health care. But there’s no compassion in the health insurance business.

    • tomzone Says:

      I think the whole system is so sick that it can’t be fixed. Drug prices are just ungodly high. The one month supply of stabbyfeet meds costs $240 without insurance, so my $25 copay isn’t bad. And that’s a generic. For one of my anti-stabbyfeetmedcoma meds–the various meds we’ve tried so my brain will function after the neurontin makes me groggy…holy crap, Professor Gozen, but the med cost $681.09 for a month. (The $681 was tolerable, but that 9 cents pushed me over the line. ;)) My copay was $75, which still stung. And I know insurance companies have deals and discounts with pharmacy chains, so they didn’t have to pay the entire 606.09 remainder. Still, even if they have to pay 2/3 of that, it’s more than my employer and I pay each month for my health insurance. (That 681.09 was for one month’s worth of this med: 30 tablets.)

      It’s a mess. Time for me to pop a bunch of expensive pills and head to work.

  4. I used to have to do that mail order med crap. “Oooh, it’s so convenient, it comes right to your door automatically!” Except when it doesn’t. I’d rather run up to the corner once a month and get them right in my hands. I’ve just called in two of mine. I have one med that you can’t get mail-order, so I’m in there anyway.

  5. That fucking sucks Tom. So sorry. 😦

  6. I salute Kzinti for an epic curse that will leave my lips frequently and for numerous occasions. I’ve been to a shingles dance and it was no fun at all.

    That is precisely my gripe about the mail-order meds extortion racket. You are paying an insurance premium. The only reason to make this “offer you can’t refuse” is to increase their profit margin. The drug has not changed based on who puts it in a bottle. The only thing that has changed is the prescription insurance company’s bottom line. None of us customers have any right to mess with that, no sir.

    I wish you 30 days of stabby-free bliss. Perhaps by Day 28.5, you will win the mail-order roulette game and have your 90 days of happiness. I GRRRRRR! in support of your Snarl!

  7. I meant ‘has any right’ – also why I should have gone to bed four hours ago yesterday.

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