While she was out buying a watch, I was trying to refill a prescription. This should not be an adventure, considering I've been on the same medication for a decade, from the same doctor, at the same pharmacy, from the same place of employment. Imagine my surprise when I went to pick it up and the pharmacy tech looked up and asked me, "Do you know the price of these prescriptions?" As I've paid the same generic price over the years, this question caught me off guard. As you can imagine, I was quite tentative in my response. When she indicated the price of my usually-costs-me-about fifteen bucks was going to almost $500.00, I choked. I may have spit out my gum. I may have grabbed my chest. I may have blacked out. After I regained consciousness and was able to once again make coherent sentences, I asked why on earth this could be. She told me, very politely and rather apologetically, that I should call my insurance company's help desk.
I forgot about the change in our insurance. Thank you, new insurance company. I forgot I might have to play your game.
The pharmacy tech inquired if I needed the phone number to the help desk. I assured her that I most certainly did not. I politely declined the medication, internally fired up to rip someone a new asshole while externally acting like a rational human being.
What I really wanted to yell was, "THOSE ARE MY CRAZY MEDS, BITCH! DO YOU WANT ME TO BE CRAZY? THIS HAS CRAZY WRITTEN ALL OVER IT!" But, it isn't her fault I didn't play the insurance game. It's not her fault that the price of medication is absurd. It isn't her fault that I didn't want to pay full price.
No offense to the mentally ill. I mean you no disrespect. Please do not poop on my blog parade.
When I got home, I pulled out the insurance card and called the most-probably-not-helpful help desk. I got the forty-seven different options animated voice greeting. None of the choices made any sense. I gave it my best guess and picked the option that sounded the closest to resolving my issue and waited. And, pushed buttons. And, waited. And, pushed more buttons. And..... and, finally gave up. (I always feel that is the goal--beat them down until they give up.)
I chewed on the best course of action. I figured the company's website had to be the best bet. Think I could remember my password or even my user name? Think I could remember if I even had an account? No. So, I played the "let's get you an account" game, only to find I did have an account. This meant I got to play the "let's rescue your password by asking you five specific questions of which I don't remember ever answering" game.
Once on the insurance company's website, it took me awhile to figure out how to solve the problem at hand. Finally--wa-la! I accidentally pushed the wrong button, which ended up to be the correct button. I hadn't change my prescription status on the website--on the account of which I didn't remember having. I had not opted out of mail order med service. Hence, my meds were authorized via mail. Buying them at the pharmacy would require me to take action.
I studying the instructions, determining that if I wanted to pick meds up at the pharmacy instead of using the company's mail order system, I could sell my soul and jump through their 87 opt-out hoops. I shoveled some chocolate into my mouth in an effort to stay calm and focused.
Me: Do you care about mail order meds?
Me 2: I have no issue with mail order meds. What's to care about with mail order meds? They come in the mail, you take them, it's paid on line. No, I don't care about that.
Me: Do you care where where your meds come from?
Me 2: I don't care where my meds come from as long as they are in my possession.
Me: Do you know you'll save $1.37 on your order if you get them via mail order?
Me 2: I don't give a rat's ass if I save $1.37 on my total bill by using mail order. Did I mention I care only that the meds are in my possession?
Me: So, don't opt out and use mail order.
Me 2: Duh! This doesn't solve the immediate, actual dilemma: I need the medication now, not in 5-10 days via the mail.
Me: Oh. Yeah, that.
Me 2: Did I mention THOSE ARE MY CRAZY PILLS???!!!!!!
Me: Maybe once or twice.
Me 2: So, how do I get those pills NOW?
Me: [awkward silence]
Me: Well, you could pay the expedited price.
Me 2: [beeeeeeeeeeeep--edited for PG-rated viewers]
Me: So, I'm opting out of opting in.
Wait, how can it be a refill if I have never used this service before? I decided to not dwell on this. I prayed to the Gods of Insurance and let it go. We'll see what transpires. You'll know soon enough. It's a race against time.
I will be reading my insurance information word for word later today, as I am about to enter the "medical loop" in regards to my thyroid. I went to the doctor this week to talk about my goiter and ended up being referred for an ultrasound, lab work, mammogram, colonoscopy and exam by endocrinologist. I'm sure there are pre-authorizations, co-pays, deductibles and uncovered services in the mix. Oh goody! Wonder what buttons I am supposed to and not supposed to push?
Don't get me wrong: I'm grateful I have insurance. I'm grateful I can afford these services. I'm grateful my biggest issue is having a goiter and needing to use mail order to get my meds. I will try my best to remain calm, cool, rational, polite, focused, understanding as I navigate the medical loop....
....but, let's make this clear: if those pills don't arrive in the mail sooner than not, all bets are off.
...and, if that fruit-brand watch doesn't sync with that fruit-brand phone with that fruit-brand tablet, I won't be the only one in need of medication. You have been warned.
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