Monday, May 7, 2012
Pharmcists and Medication
Sometimes having a child with special needs sucks, and not in the way you would think. While dealing with the issues you know you have to face on a daily basis can be soul grinding at times, it's the things you don't expect to deal with that really slap you upside the head and make you want to go postal that do it.
Take meds, for example. A typical parent doesn't need to worry about medication on a daily basis for their child, nor do they need to schedule in the monthly drive to pick up the prescriptions, and then go get the meds dropped off at the local pharmacy. And if they need meds when their child is sick, it's usually a short term deal.
With Xavier and ADHD, medication is a major part of how he can cope. It's not a be all end all, but when added to behavior modification, a good schedule, and a lot of adults there to help, it allows him to live as normal a life as possible. And his meds are the kind that I can't randomly call up the pharmacist and ask for a refill. I have to contact his doctor every month, drive my ass down there, drive it to the pharmacist, and hope like hell I don't get a new person. Because new pharmacists suck.
Because every time I get a new pharmacist, I have to go through the rigmarole to prove that YES my son DOES need "all those" medications, and that I am not using him as my recreational drug supplier. I have to slowly spell every ones name, age, birth date, social security numbers, all former names of pets, every address I have ever lived at (which I think I'm now up to 13?) and wave my passport for a stamp of approval. Unfortunately, my local pharmacy has a turn around like a carousel and I have to go through this shit every few months. I think it might be time to find a more stable pharmacy environment.
Then I have to wait to make sure that the pharmacy even has the medications in stock (which half of the time they don't in which I run around in a panic, trying to find another pharmacy that might and deal with a new pharmacist). And then I have to deal with the POS insurance companies, who also think I might be a druggie, and randomly refuse us the meds needed because we put in the prescription 23 seconds too early.
Today I dealt with two of these issues and a new one: my credit card company decided that it wasn't me trying to buy the expensive medication I do every month on the SAME card, but was a thief and refused to approve unless I called and proved it was me.
This morning I met the new pharmacist. She bounced over to the drive through window like Tigger on crack.
Pharm: Hi, may I help you???
Me: Yes, I have three prescriptions to fill. ( I hand them over. She looks at them for a good minute, scrutinizing the doctors signature, making sure it wasn't a photocopy.)
Pharm: Maam, are these prescriptions for you?
Me: No, my son.
Pharm: And he needs all three of these?
Pharm: Really? He needs both (##) Concerta AND (##) Concerta?
Me: Yes, he does. You can check your records if you wish.
Pharm: Have you filled here before?
Me: Yes. And he has had that same prescription filled here for many months.
Pharm: I see. I am going to go check, ok?
Me: (nodding in resignation and leaning back to catch a quick nap while she raids the files).
Pharm: (5 minutes later) Yes, I see that he has had his prescription filled here before. This is the same one?
Pharm: Can you tell me your sons name?
Pharm: and his date of birth?
I tell her through gritted teeth and finally she seems to either believe me or she knows I'm about to lunge through the window, grab her cutesy Bugs bunny tie and choke hold her until she puts the damn order in. She checks to make sure they have the medication (someone above realizes I've had enough at this moment because oddly enough they have all three in stock) and I tell her I will pick them up this afternoon.
Which I do, and deal with a new issue entirely, and one that nearly had me ( and the kids) go crazy with how much time we sat with thumbs up our asses.
I have a very specific credit card used solely for medication purposes. For some random reason, this time when I went to pay for Xavir's meds, the credit card company decided to refuse on the basis that they thought the exorbitant prices of meds was not what it was every month, but that the card was stolen. Which meant that I had to call in and prove it was me.
So I sat there, on hold, for fifteen minutes waiting to talk to a person. And when I finally got a person I realized that in my frustrated haste I called the wrong number. Instead of the credit card company I got a Presbyterian church (which has an 888 number by the way... who knew?).
Instead of waiting on hold again for an ungodly amount of time I asked the pharmacist to try again. If it didn't work Id just come back later. She swiped the card, and voila! It worked. I have a feeling that it wasn't my credit card, but that the new pharmacist fucked up.
Shit like this makes me so grateful for alcohol.