It's Not Like I'm Trying to Buy Medicinal

Marijuana. Just Give Me the Dang Pills!

After spending the night curled in a ball on the bathroom floor while sniffing lemon slices, I dragged my barfy bum off the floor this morning and headed to my nearest CVS to refill my Zofran prescription. Zofran, for those lucky enough not to know what it is, is a highly potent anti-nausea pill.

I waddled up to the pharmacy and slid my prescription across the counter. Noticing my green gills, the chirpy pharmacist guy promised to have the meds ready in less than 10 minutes. I crawled over to the set of plastic chairs and dropped into one. A couple of minutes later a timid little voice called to me.

"Ma'am?" The pharmacist guy was looking at me with sympathy.

His sugary sweet demeanor immediately set off my alarm bells. "Yes?" I responded warily.

"Um, your insurance requires prior authorization for this prescription." He let this announcement hang in the air for a second. "And without insurance, it will cost $427.00"

"What?!" My shriek was no doubt heard all the way up in the film development corner.

The pharmacy guy began to look alarmed and took a step back. "I can't fill this prescription the way it's written without authorization from your insurance company. The only way I can give you the 30 pills is if you pay full price for them. Otherwise, your insurance will only pay for 5." The words came tumbling out of him so fast it was hard for me to decipher each one individually. The poor guy was obviously new to the profession and hadn't had much experience with dealing with people who were livid with their insurance company.

Well, who better than a barfy pregnant woman to break him in?

"That's horse hockey!!" I snapped at him. I lunged out of my chair and snatched my prescription back off the counter. "It's not like I'm trying to get Percocet or Pot or something! It's barf pills!! What the heck is their problem?" I demanded of him.

"I don't know" he stammered nervously. His eyes darted from side to side, obviously looking for someone to rescue him.

"You know, you really should have that answer!" I sneered at him and stomped away.

Once in the car I wrenched my cell phone out of my purse to call the insurance company. As I did, a wave of nausea hit me and I was wiped clean of my anger. All I wanted now was a bucket and my mommy.