Happy, Happy Day!

The doorbell rang a few minutes ago.  FedEx delivery.  It was addressed to me, although I wasn't expecting anything.  I open the package, and lo and behold-- medicine!  Three months worth of Lyrica, free!  That's almost $750 retail.  I sent in paperwork to Pfizer's patient assistance program a couple weeks ago, and they've already sent me my first shipment.  Thank you, Pfizer!

Why I Hate the Drug Companies

This afternoon I crossed state lines in an attempt to buy prescription medication.  In the good old days (you know, like August) I could go down the street and get a prescription from my local pharmacy for $30 because I had prescription drug coverage through my insurance.  Now I am uninsured, but I still need medicines, this one particularly, because it's a steroid and you can just stop those puppies cold turkey.

So I called around last week to find out who had my prescriptions for the best prices.  Target was the winner with this one at $1011 for a one month refill.  That's right.  One month.  So, plan B.  I remembered I had a card from the drug company that would help me pay for this medication.  So I took it to Walgreens, where I was picking up another prescription at the time, and asked them to check it out.  Turns out the card is worth $500.  Woo hoo!  But it's good everywhere but Massachusetts, where I currently live.  sigh.  Time for a new plan.

So I take my prescription bottle with all the info on it and my magic card to a Target across the state line in New Hampshire.  No big deal.  It's not that far away, and my parents had errands they wanted to run in the area anyway.  I give the bottle and the card to the pharmacist, explain that I'd like to transfer my prescription to Target and get as many pills as the $500 card will allow.  Call me if there are any problems.

An hour later I'm sitting on a bench in the mall, waiting for my parents to do something or other, when I get a call from Target.  They're very sorry, but they can't get the card to work.  You must have primary insurance that will pay for at least part of the prescription, and then the card will cover the rest, up to $500.

Hell.

After suppressing the urge to throw things, I asked her how much one week of the prescription would cost.  $232.26.  Fortunately, steroids require tapers, and one week of the prescription as written is actually three weeks of medication for me.  (You're supposed to take 1 pill a day for 6 weeks to safely taper.  It's going to be more like 30 days.)  So I gritted my teeth and bought the damn drugs.

And then I had a perfectly miserable time thinking of all the things I could have bought with that $232.26.

• 1/3 of a month's medical insurance premium
• a car payment on my beloved Toyota that I had to sell when I moved here
• one of the super fancy Tivos that I was drooling over the other night
• a month's supply of three other prescriptions put together
• almost 5 months worth of cell phone service
• 29 books for my Kindle

Clearly, there are other things I could have spent that money on.  Why was I in this predicament?  (Other than the fact that I have a chronic disease that I did not ask for and have no control over.)  Because a drug company gave out cards offering to pay for $500 worth of medication, medication that is criminally expensive to begin with, and then refused to allow people with out insurance, the ones who really need it, to use the card.  How fucked up is that?  When I had insurance the card wasn't worth the hassle.  Now that I desperately need the card, it won't work because I don't have insurance.  What this drug company has done is place advertisements in doctors' offices (which they aren't supposed to do, right?) and called them patient assistance cards.  They placed these cards knowing that they would never have to pay on the vast majority of them because for the vast majority of us they are worthless.

Bastards.

One good spot in all this mess-- I got a $10 Target card from the pharmacist.  I think she felt bad for me.  I'm going to save it just in case I need more of this medication.  It will almost buy me one pill.

Great Googly Moogly

I spent part of the day today calling pharmacies and pricing my most urgent prescriptions now that I don't have insurance or prescription drug coverage.  Never do this.  It's too depressing for words.

I only priced the four that need to be refilled in the next two weeks.  No point in going through the hassle if it doesn't need to be refilled yet, because the prices might be different in Indiana.  One of my prescriptions-- just one prescription, for one month-- is $1011.49.  And that's the cheapest price I could find for that one.  It's a steroid, and I've been weening myself off of it anyway, so I may just take my last nine pills and hope for the best.  I have a bottle of Prednisone for emergencies.  It plays merry hell with the body, but it's cheap.  If I start to crash and burn without the other steroid I'll just start up on the Pred.  I could buy a couple of years' worth of Pred for the price of one month of the other stuff.

I will say one thing for my thousand dollar steroids.  They make my $130/month Savella look mighty cheap in comparison.  And the Savella, at least in the short term, would be much more miserable to go off.