I'll tell ya, folks--once they got ya down, they just keep on poundin', no mercy.
A year or so ago I had to assign all my old debts to an agency called Credit Solutions, because with the expense of MS diagnostics and treatments, I simply had no money to continue monthly payments. Herein the old credits cards are, of course, closed, and new interest supposedly does not continue to accrue.
Nonetheless, I have today received a summons to appear in court by one of these old creditors. They are suing for the amount owed plus interest.
They don't seem to like the idea of the credit solutions route.
This is disheartening, frightening, and stressful for me. The idea of appearing before a court as a deadbeat is not appealing. Where will the money come from? Am I supposed to stop all treatments, discontinue visits to the neurologist, forgo any further MRIs? Sadly, even were I to take those steps, there would still be no money, as we are still paying on the MS bills so far incurred.
Add on top of this the hospital cost for my recent surgery for kidney stones. I don't know yet what the insurance will pay, but the straight, unadjusted bill so far is $13,000.
It may as well be 13 million.
These are the financial, the morale effects that come with MS--those that lurk like storm clouds on the periphery of the day to day struggle--just living with the disease. These are the locks on the chains, the electric fences, the surplus in reality that says No, you are NOT going to be okay after all. Because of MS, you will be hunted not only by symptoms and relapses, but by poverty and legal action.
Life is hard, right? Life's a bitch, and then you die. We've heard it over and over, and yet somehow, deep down, will not believe.
Visits
Showing posts with label cost of drugs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cost of drugs. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
The Saltiness of Salt
It seems that we who take various drugs for various problems have a certain inclination to suddenly decide that we no longer need one or the other or all of the drugs. The decision is perhaps not so coincidental as it is frugal--for, in my case anyway, it is often made when the time comes to refill a prescription.
Forty-five bucks! What the fuck! No way. Fact is, I've been feeling just fine. Fuck this shit!
This happened most recently when it came time to fill my prescription for Protonix, a medication that I have been taking for the last 10 years or so. Now why we miss the connection between feeling well and taking the medication, I am not quite sure. It is, as I said, a matter of money, but it is also more than that. Perhaps we continually entertain the deep set belief that we will eventually get better. We have seen it happen, and reliably so for that matter, with antibiotics, for instance, or with Tylenol for a headache. Why shouldn't it be the same with ulcers, or GERD, or depression, or anxiety, or MS?
I have decided at one time or another in the past, and will likely decide again in the future, that I do not need Protonix, I do not need Lexapro, I do not need baclofen, I do not need Provigil. And so on.
My body has always been quick to correct this perception.
We find, of all things, that these drugs actually have an effect. We remember that that is why we were taking them in the first place. It is not that these pills are anything in particular in and of themselves--i.e. it is a far cry from the summer of love, when one definitely knew whether he had taken a pill. Aside from the possibility of a noxious side effect, one may as well have swallowed a little piece of plaster or a stale bit of cracker.
No, the efficacy is found in the absence, not the presence. Because, folks, I have the stomachache of the century, and I need my Protonix now the way an addict needs his heroin.
As a caveat, I should mention that a sure substitute for all these drugs put together is a couple doses of double-strength Vicodin. The trouble is, of course, that Vicodin is a narcotic, and thus a controlled substance, therefore imposing a limit on ones monthly supply.
But I'll tell you one thing. If Vicodin were to be made available for a reasonable price at the neighborhood supermarket, someone out there would be making a shit-load of money!
Forty-five bucks! What the fuck! No way. Fact is, I've been feeling just fine. Fuck this shit!
This happened most recently when it came time to fill my prescription for Protonix, a medication that I have been taking for the last 10 years or so. Now why we miss the connection between feeling well and taking the medication, I am not quite sure. It is, as I said, a matter of money, but it is also more than that. Perhaps we continually entertain the deep set belief that we will eventually get better. We have seen it happen, and reliably so for that matter, with antibiotics, for instance, or with Tylenol for a headache. Why shouldn't it be the same with ulcers, or GERD, or depression, or anxiety, or MS?
I have decided at one time or another in the past, and will likely decide again in the future, that I do not need Protonix, I do not need Lexapro, I do not need baclofen, I do not need Provigil. And so on.
My body has always been quick to correct this perception.
We find, of all things, that these drugs actually have an effect. We remember that that is why we were taking them in the first place. It is not that these pills are anything in particular in and of themselves--i.e. it is a far cry from the summer of love, when one definitely knew whether he had taken a pill. Aside from the possibility of a noxious side effect, one may as well have swallowed a little piece of plaster or a stale bit of cracker.
No, the efficacy is found in the absence, not the presence. Because, folks, I have the stomachache of the century, and I need my Protonix now the way an addict needs his heroin.
As a caveat, I should mention that a sure substitute for all these drugs put together is a couple doses of double-strength Vicodin. The trouble is, of course, that Vicodin is a narcotic, and thus a controlled substance, therefore imposing a limit on ones monthly supply.
But I'll tell you one thing. If Vicodin were to be made available for a reasonable price at the neighborhood supermarket, someone out there would be making a shit-load of money!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)