On the bright side, I have something to post about

The other day I did my quarterly pilgrimage to the ol’ psychiatrist, as you do, and from there I scurried to the pharmacist with a slightly increased dose of Prozac (thanks for nothing, endless winter) and my usual anti-anxiety pills, which I keep on hand for the occasional anxiety attack, which this winter became somewhat less than occasional (hat tip to polar vortex and relentless sun deprivation!). I returned an hour later to pick up my pills, and the pharmacist informed me that while the Klonopin was no problem, my insurance company wouldn’t pay for the extra 10 mg of Prozac due to “deductible.” You’ll have to take my word for it that a deductible that only applies to certain medications is, in our medical plan as well as probably everyone else’s, nonsense.

Well, okay. I politely refused to pay hundreds of dollars for 10 mg of Prozac, and made a note to call the insurance company, which I will do on one of this free days I have, when I delight in nothing more than listening to hold music all afternoon. Meanwhile I will consume a Skittle each morning and hope the placebo effect takes hold.

The next day I visited the pharmacist with another prescription, this one for Henry's eczema cream. (I think we can also blame this on the winter, which I'll go ahead and do.) Again, returned an hour later, only to be told that the insurance company would pay for the cream but would not pay for it in emollient form, which is what the doctor wanted, being that my son’s skin has turned to bark. I was confused about the difference between an emollient and a non-emollient, and the pharmacist looked weary as he said, “It’s just adding a few lipids.” Which I now want to put on a t-shirt. Just a few? Do you count them out? Do you have lipid gobs floating around in a vat back there? Are they sentient? Of course they are.

I know other people have nightmare insurance companies and pay untold thousands every month and in the scale of things 10 mg of Prozac and “a few lipids” isn’t life or death, but we pay a thousand dollars a month, and for that amount I would think I could get my son his lipids. And my brain could have its little Prozac bump. (And this plan is a huge improvement over the one we had in New Jersey, where we paid almost $1500 a month and they denied practically every claim. Including one for pink eye, because it was a “pre-existing condition.”)

Maybe if you want to save money, insurance companies, maybe you forgo having your employees waste their time squinching their eyes at our piddling little requests, denying us our lipids. Oh, I don’t know. I would come up with a decent ending to this post but right now I have to convince my son to smear non-moisturizing corticosteroids all over himself. Would a few lipids make this an easier process? I'm not sure, but I can tell you that the Prozac would have helped.