Part I
For the past week, give or take, I've been on an epic journey and decided to share it with you, of course.
A bit of background is now necessary so that you aren't totally lost. Back in the olden days when I was married, it was determined that I was allergic to “bee stings.” The reason why I put the quotation marks around those last two words is because I do think it's more like wasps or hornets or some such.
Look, I'm not an expert on what this or that flying object might be, (other than UFOs of course) but if I get stung by what I'm going to call a bee, I must jam a shot into my thigh and then rush off to the hospital.
I've had people lecture me for saying “bee sting” so that's why I felt that I should go ahead with that last part. As you know, people are “on the muscle” these days and will take any opportunity to correct others and/or display manufactured outrage, in any way possible. WOW!
Moving back to the story or starting the story, I noticed that my bee sting kit had become cloudy and therefore would not do me much good if I were to be viciously attacked by something yellow and black zooming at me wildly—I don't mean a Pittsburgh Steeler. It says right on the thing that if it becomes cloudy, you must replace. So, the expiration date can be years old but as long as one can see through the little window thingamajig it's OK.
I went back in my memory banks, which are super crowded these days and aren't working too well, and remembered the name of the doctor's office. Clearly, I'm not one to gallop off to a “health care” person at the drop of a hat. More on that another time.
Have you called a doctor's office lately? It truly is a test in determining whether or not short-term memory is still in action. The answering machine prattles off several things they need from you in order to return the phone call. I think it said something like leave my name, date of birth, social security number, name of first born child, date of last fill-up at the gas station, boxers or briefs, etc. After leaving a message with basically my name and number, I went ahead with my day.
Soon thereafter, the phone rang and I was told, in NO uncertain terms, that I MUST make an appointment pronto in order to get the life-saving bee sting kit. Evidently they were not able to call it over to the pharmacy and THEN see me; It was the other way around. I found that to be totally insane but we are dealing with the “health care” system here so I wasn't super surprised, just angry.
Evidently I had been a “no show” two times as well, ladies and germs. Although I really don't think that I would purposely miss a visit and not telephone them to say why, I will just go ahead and give them that much. Maybe I did space on an appointment; I do keep stickers around for that very thing but it could be true. They possess white lab coats and are probably correct about that particular case.
I was also told that they hadn't seen me in TWO whole years. OH NO! I mean who has ever heard of such a thing? A person with no real health concerns, other than severe chronic pain, (for which I'm not being treated with “western medicine”) hasn't seen a doctor for TWO whole years even though she hasn't been sick. WOW, what is the world coming to?
Bottom line is they had a cancellation on Friday (this unfolded on Wednesday) so I took the spot. Now, what if they hadn't had an opening for 2 months as is oft' the case with this type of thing? I guess I'd be out of luck. They gave me terrific advice though in case of a sting so that was good. They said I'd have to go to the ER right away. I would have never thought of that. Whew! Thank goodness for those words of wisdom!
Moving through the sea of sarcasm and back to the point, I arrived on their doorstep on Friday, as promised. I have to say that they were super nice in person and were not as, well, rude as the one person was on the phone. Maybe she was having a bad day or something on Wednesday? Perhaps they are tired of dealing with people? Who knows but I'm going to forgive them for that part as they made up for it during the meeting. Honestly, both of these women were borderline delightful and I'm nothing if not the type to forgive.
My blood pressure was taken, I was weighed and they listened to my lungs. That was literally the extent of the “exam.” I do all of the above at home, well, other than the lung thing. Here's the thing: the nurse practitioner who is my main gal, not sure what to call her, told me that the insurance WILL hound me to get this or that or the other done. Hmm, very interesting isn't it?
We had a light and cheerful discussion, after which she told me that they electronically communicate with the pharmacies these days in terms of prescriptions. She told me that everything looked good in terms of insurance paying for the kit as it is a matter of life or death in my specific case.
I drove home in a rather cheerful manner. I was in The Child's (son Spencer) car to boot with the top down. I toyed with the idea of heading up to Bear Camp the next day with Perpetual (life partner) because I had everything done around the house.
After I was home for a bit I made the call to the pharmacy to see about a co-pay for the now infamous bee sting kit. The “kid” at the pharmacy talked at the speed of light but she was pretty helpful when all was said and done. It was the part about what was “said” that had me clutching pearls.
Evidently, the insurance company did not want to pay for this EpiPen. This has not happened in the past and I've had the same coverage for years. I think I paid $60 or maybe $80 in years gone by. Of these choices, what do you think it would have cost, had I paid out of pocket: A) $234 B) $620 or C) $487? I will put the answer at the end of this column, kind of like I do when I supply a trivia game for the week—OH, what fun.
Moving along, after I gathered my jaw from a nearby cat who was lounging under the table, I asked her what my next move might be. She gave me some jargon about this or that which I did not understand as she was using “Pharma language,” much in the manner of a medial coding person, I think. After we both began to speak English, she told me that they had to whip paperwork (this is all done online now, of course) over to the doc then the doc had to send it to the insurance company to more or less plead my case. This was now Friday AFTER business hours of most docs and others in that field.
What could I do other than drive to Canada? So it is now Monday as I type this column, which is a shock as I usually wait until the last minute. I called the pharmacy today and was given the good news that indeed, the insurance waved the white flag. It was going to be covered; I could jump for joy and run through fields of insects with honey painted on my arms.
As I was on my way out the door, the phone rang and it was, you guessed it, the gal at the pharmacy. “We don't have the EpiPen in stock,” said she. When I asked her how long before they would have it in stock, I was told in a VERY casual manner that it could be a day, maybe two or a week. Ho hum.
I was instructed to call around to other pharmacies to see if they might have it in stock and guess what....none did. I finally decided to just go ahead and wait for my regular drug store to get it in stock and they will call me at that time. Good gravy, this is a long column.
Before I go, I should give you the answer to that question above. The answer is, B) $620 for a life-saving *&%$# bee sting kit.
That's all I can muster, ladies and gents and I know you are sick of me by now. I shall keep you posted on the saga of the bee sting kit.
THE END (Interstate Crosscheck, “War is a Racket” by General Smedley Butler, “Where did the Towers Go?” by Dr. Judy Wood)