I have a prescription for the anti-psychotic, Latuda. You may remember that I stopped taking Seroquel after several years and switched to Latuda late last year. Latuda is new. So, Latuda is expensive. We got a manufacturer’s coupon that covers 30-day scripts and makes my co-pay $25.
My pharmacy insurance plan mandates that after 3 30-day scripts are filled, I must switch over to 90-day fills. The coupon does not cover that. Apparently, neither does my insurance, because the cost of the script keeps coming up $1,723.67 on their computer. This, according to our friend, the manager. We obviously can’t pay that.
So, it really doesn’t matter much that my receptionist, the capable and ever-awesome Robin, has left my psychiatrist’s practice. Leaving a bevy of inept women in her place. They do not answer the phone. They do not return phone calls. They do not send in prescription requests. They do not answer prescription requests that come in over fax from the pharmacy. So the fact that I called last Thursday to have the script approved and sent in and they still haven’t done it, doesn’t matter that much now. I can’t afford the 90-day supply.
So, Doc calls the pharmacy insurance company, and, after a long, contentious argument, he got the super secret appeals phone number and fax. So, with a pleading note from me, and insistence in writing from my doctor, they should approve the 30-day fills for the rest of the year. We have until then to find another therapy I can afford that doesn’t have devastating side-effects.
So, Doc is going into the office and raising hell until they let him talk to the doctor. My doctor keeps saying, “You can always call me.” But I can’t. I can’t get through. So, he has no idea this is happening. He has no idea that I’ve been without meds for 6 days now and it’s starting to seem like everyone but Doc wants me to end up in the hospital. At this point, if Doc’s visit to the doctor doesn’t get some kind of help, the hospital is the only place I’m going to get medicated.
I’ve been really really good. But yesterday, the hallucinations came roaring back. And I was so confused and unable to speak. Doc made me take a cursed Seroquel. I feel pretty steady today. I’m okay with the Smurfs in the kitchen and the Shadow People in the hallway. If the carpet gets covered with snakes, I’m getting on a bus to the hospital. I can’t take the snakes in the carpet. That is my line in the sand of my psychosis.
So, that’s me right now. I got no work done yesterday. Today, since I’m feeling better, I hope to get a LOT of stuff done. Starting with that letter to the appeals board at the pharmacy company.
I hope to make a meaningful post later. Major has passed a milestone and I want to brag about it.