Does refilling a prescription need to be class warfare?
By KEVIN HORRIGAN | St. Louis Post-Dispatch
When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. When I got sick, my mom got me medicine at a local drugstore by handing a nice man a prescription and paying him a few bucks.
When I became a man, I put away childish things. When I got sick, I handed my prescription to a pharmacist’s assistant in a white coat at a chain drugstore. Usually my insurance paid most of the cost.
Now that I am a middle-aged man, I have resumed childish tantrums. These occur whenever I have to refill a prescription. Unless it’s something short-term like an antibiotic, I have to go online to order a 90-day supply. If there are no refills remaining, I must try to get in touch with the doctor.
Or maybe there’s a billing snafu, some holdup among me, my health insurer, my health insurer’s pharmacy benefits manger and my health insurer’s flexible spending account manager, which wants more documentation than a French passport inspector.
My theory: They deliberately make things hard to discourage you from using your benefits.
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