Yesterday I visited one of the most frightening places in my new lifestyle: the drive-thru prescription window at Walgreens.
I had run out of Zemplar (sounds like the evil planet in a Star Wars spoof, doesn't it?), my Vitamin D supplement, and dropped off the empty vial the day before to have it refilled. It's the ultimate in convenience; you don't have to get out of your car, or even turn down the radio, for that matter. Just slow down long enough to toss the vial into the bank-teller-like drawer and speed off. After all, your name, address and the name of your drug are already on the container. What do they need you for? Walgreens goes so far as to send an e-mail alert when your prescription is ready for pickup, so you don't waste a return trip. All very smooth and easy.
The scary part comes when you go back to get the medication. Even though I have an insurance plan that greatly reduces the cost of most of my prescriptions – often no more than $10 – some of my drugs are so expensive that even with my deep insurance discount, the price is enough to make me swallow hard and break out in a mild sweat. And because the price isn't included on the label, it's always a guessing game how much any particular drug is going to cost. It's The Price Is Right, sickness or health edition.
I place my debit card in the slot, look mournfully through the glass into the pharmacist's eyes, and pray I can come closest to the actual retail price without going over my bank balance. The prescription and the card come back in the drawer. The receipt says $45.
Forty-five dollars! For these little bitty pills? If I knew what was in them, I'll bet I could make them myself for half that much! Shaking my head and wiping the sweat from my brow, I slowly place my debit card back in my wallet and suddenly remember that my Renagel, the phosphorus blocker, is about to run out, too.
It's at least twice the price. Horrors.
No comments:
Post a Comment