Tonight was my pill night – exciting times for Dallas on a weekday night – and like many of you I am the victim of the medical industrialized complex, aka, an integrated health system. Two things happened today – one bad and another very irritating.
I was experiencing a few side effects from the Lipitor I am taking so my able and accommodating physician prescribed Crestor, the one you see in TV ads where people are dancing in the streets because “they got down with Crestor…” When I picked up my prescription I was shocked to learn that the only thing getting down on this day in Dallas was my bank account.
My portion of the prescription was $385.43 for a 90-day supply. This, AFTER Medicare (thank you Millennials for continuing to support this upside down entitlement) paid $466.56. For those of you who are into the metrics, that is $9.46 a pill!
Now, before I go further, I want to explain that for a 65-year-old guy who travels a lot, who is 20 pounds overweight and who developed high blood pressure, I am otherwise a reasonably healthy guy, so other than the Lipitor soon to be Crestor, I take a pill that effectively lowers my blood pressure, a Tylenol for lower back pain caused by hauling about 90 pounds worth of suitcase and briefcase through airports near and far, an iron pill to offset Single Malt Scotch, and a baby aspirin, just in case. I also take a pill to minimize the ill effects of the Lipitor soon to be Crestor, plus a few routine vitamins and Prevagen to enhance brain function, which some would argue I should have been taking years ago… Anyway, I seem to be taking a lot of pills lately.
So, tonight is pill night, the night I load my 7-day pill container that reminds me to take my pills every morning. Ok, maybe I need to take the extra strength version of that brain boost vitamin.
As I was finishing the loading process, and trust me, it is a loading process, I inadvertently hit the container and 7 days worth of pills went seven ways from Sunday. Twenty minutes later, with the aid of a flashlight, on my hands and knees, I was trying to corral the pills, some tiny, some round, some clear (drug makers, we need to talk) and all capable of traveling an amazing distance from the scene of the accident. To be honest, there are still two missing baby aspirins and a couple of Zyrtec allergy pills.
Luckily I recovered all the really expensive pills but others await the vacuum cleaner.
I am thankful the grandkids were not nearby or they would have heard several new combinations of what we can only describe as “Popi’s Words.”