For the second time in a row, a refill of my medication has cost me $90. The first time, I thought it was just volume - 300 pills of Lyrica, the pill bottle larger than a small penis. But today was Trileptal, and less Trileptal than usual, since the dose has been slightly reduced by half a pill a day.
CVS said I had to call my insurance company.
My insurance company said I had to call MedCo.
MedCo said that Lyrica and Trileptal are classified as non-preferred medications, and, as such, they cost more.
Me: "Okay. These are anti-seizure medications. Different anti-seizure medications work in different ways with different people. I can't take a different medication. I need this one. It is medically necessary for me to have this one, and not be charged out the ass for it." (My previous co-pay was $22. $22 < $90 by, um, a lot.)
The MedCo person was a fucking idiot. Complimented me on how articulate I was, though. (The fuck? Well, compared to him, of course I am, but I can't figure out why he felt the need to say so. Perhaps it was an attempt to soothe the she-bitch. Also I wasn't being that hostile; I was actively trying to control the hostility. (And Gwyn says I did a good job of it.) The yelling only came out on the phone to Adam later.)
I can ask for an exemption from MedCo. And I can call Coca-Cola U's benefits department to see what they can do, being as these drugs are medically fucking necessary for me to not fucking die, but I'm going to let Adam do that because he's the actual employee and policyholder and is statistically less likely to start graphically describing what he can do to these pigfuckers with but a spork and a Zippo lighter.
I'm just sayin'.
This is what a killing mood looks like. *charming smile*
I'm going to go watch Empire Records with Gwyn, who has never seen it.